


You Will Not Fall

by herongale



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-04-26
Updated: 2010-06-20
Packaged: 2017-10-09 04:29:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 35,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/83067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herongale/pseuds/herongale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Codependency is Awesome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. his soul, bright shining and pure

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Matchmakers and Misunderstandings](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/535) by thatreevesgirl. 



> Before beginning, I'd like to acknowledge my debt to thatreevesgirl, whose story "Matchmakers and Misunderstandings" served as significant inspiration. I am very taken with it, actually, and it got me asking myself what Abe and Mihashi's relationship would look like, some time after they'd started hooking up. This is not intended as a continuation of that story, nor are my characterizations especially like hers. But if you've read that story before reading this, the association is probably pretty obvious. And if you haven't, you should. It's really good.

"C-can I..."

"Hmm?" Abe looked up from the magazine he'd been paging through. Sure enough, there was Mihashi kneeling nearby, looking both hopeful and abashed at the same time, a nice trick if ever Abe saw one. The guy was a born fidgeter, kind of swaying slowly as he clasped his hands together.

Supervising Mihashi's homework sessions was always an exercise in managing an array of frustrations, because Mihashi was never more of an ace than when he wanted to distract himself from studying. Case in point: having hit the approximate ten minute mark in his studies, Mihashi usually looked for some kind of distraction which he liked to think of as an "earned break," at least fifty minutes earlier than he really was entitled to take one according to Abe's set rules (one break per hour, maximum). Abe had already waved Mihashi off on this technicality a few times earlier, but now over an hour had passed, and it was clear that Mihashi intended to collect.

Abe met Mihashi's pleading gaze with a level stare.

Taking this to mean that he had permission to proceed, Mihashi shuffled a handful of papers that were laying out on the kotatsu, clutching at them as he shakily picked them up and held them out to Abe. "S-see? I did a lot?"

Dutifully, Abe took the homework he'd been offered, looking over the answers critically. It was about halfway done, and none of the answers appeared to be way off base; he'd check it over later in more detail just to be sure. After a few moments, he nodded. Good enough. "Okay," he said.

In deep relief, Mihashi exhaled, an exaggerated gesture (although for him, it was no more exaggerated than his norm). He followed with a wavering smile; a grin really, or maybe a kind of grimace... in any case, a sign which held an all-too-clear meaning. With a shaky hand, Mihashi reached out, placing trembling fingertips on Abe's knee.

It was all Abe could do to keep from rolling his eyes. Mihashi _always_ went through this song-and-dance, never mind the fact that they'd been fooling around pretty solidly for the last month or so. Still, he couldn't help but feel his heart race a bit faster, a skittering nervous response of his own he could never quite keep under control.

The fact that it _always_ went like this also made it so it always felt kinda new, which was actually pretty nice.

"So... so. So?" Mihashi began collecting his thoughts. "C-can I?"

"You don't need to ask for permission, you know." Abe couldn't keep the irritability from his voice altogether, although he'd been working on his volume and so this came out kind of tight, and gruff, but quiet.

"I know," Mihashi answered slowly, "...but." Abe felt the brush of Mihashi's fingers stroke his knee, the one which had been hurt last year. Mihashi swallowed, hard, and after a moment so did Abe. This was just so damned awkward.

Probably Abe should just take charge, because he at least knew how to be forceful. But the last time he'd tried, it had left Mihashi in a quivering heap of nerves which rendered him useless for doing anything else for the rest of the night, and it had even affected his next day's practice too, which was an unforgivable lapse of judgement on his own part. Managing Mihashi's nerves was the hardest part of managing Mihashi in general, and experience had taught Abe to proceed cautiously, not knowing which landmine of emotional vulnerability he might trigger if he weren't careful. So he waited.

Trembling still, Mihashi reached up to touch the side of Abe's face. Abe leaned back, resting his weight on his wrists, keeping his back straight while inclining his neck forward so that he could keep an eye on all Mihashi was doing. This wasn't easy for him, either, since Mihashi was a guy, but he tried not to dwell on that.

Mihashi's weakness was deceptive: when he wanted to, he could summon a surprising level of backbone, and that was what he did now. Shy, but not backing down, he kind of crawled over Abe until he was leaning over him, and he took a moment to stare at Abe in a way which was characteristically freakish. Mihashi had changed a lot from how he was back in the beginning, when he would break off into tears at the least provocation, but that didn't mean he'd shed his essential weirdness. Another thing Abe had to just resign himself to, but that was okay because Mihashi's little moments never embarrassed him, they merely annoyed him, and being annoyed had never been a particular turn-off in Abe's book.

Now Mihashi was swallowing again, a large gulping noise. With careful precision, he placed a kiss on Abe's lips. A very light one.

"A-Abe-kun is amazing..." Mihashi mumbled, and Abe felt himself flush even as he smiled slightly at this bit of praise.

Somehow it never got old.

It was also quite self-serving, if you really thought about it. Mihashi was praising Abe for being discerning enough to like _him_. Obviously Mihashi didn't really see things that way, but that was what it amounted to, and there was a carefully hidden core of ego in all of Mihashi's self-abasement which was seriously amusing. Not to mention, fairly alluring.

Abe refrained from pointing it out. It would probably come off as an insult or something.

Truthfully, it was refreshing. There had been a time when Abe was convinced that Mihashi could never believe in himself, not without borrowing self-confidence from others. And although Abe treasured Mihashi's trust and faith in him, a true ace needed to believe in himself. Ever since they'd agreed to combine their powers, Abe promised himself to keep this first and foremost in his mind. Letting Mihashi have his way sometimes, no matter how he meandered and hesitated, was definitely a part of that process.

And he had to admit: he liked it, too.

So he simply smiled, and Mihashi slowly deepened the kiss.

In return, Abe closed his eyes and allowed himself to be pressed back until he was lying flat on the floor. "Mmm... relaxing," he said, getting into the spirit of the thing, calming himself down by imagining the team meditation sessions, those cool clear mornings of summer when the whole group would sit in a circle, and sometimes he would hold Mihashi's hand...

"It's okay?" Mihashi asked, checking in way before it was really necessary to do so.

"Yes," Abe responded, gritting his teeth and going for the most pleasant tone he had.

"You don't mind?"

"No."

"... can I keep going?"

Argh. Seriously. Abe twitched a little. "Yes."

Somewhere in the back of his head, Abe envisioned Coach Momoe grinning, pathologically intense, giving him the "good job" thumbs up. She probably would approve of all this weird bonding, and even more she would be happy with Abe's restraint. None of their teammates knew all that was going on between he and Mihashi, of course, including her, but everyone had noticed how much more natural their relationship had been recently, and strangely enough he was praised for it even more than Mihashi. As if _he'd_ been the root cause of their problems all along, which was clearly a ridiculous notion.

But whatever; they could believe what they wanted, and if everyone thought that Abe holding himself back was some kind of major turning point, who was he to argue with that? He twitched a little, again. It didn't bother him, really. Not at all.

"Abe-kun?"

Abe opened his eyes, stifling a sigh.

Stalling out was just a part of the process, so he shouldn't sigh. Just a part of the process.

"Keep going," he said, and if he sounded a bit strained, it was only because he was turned on. Right? That had to be right.

Buuuut.... apparently that was not good enough, because Mihashi backed off. Not all the way, but he definitely pulled back a little, gazing down at him worriedly. "S-s-sometimes I..." Mihashi swallowed. "Feel." Blinked, _twice_. "I'm." A worried frown. "Bothering you?"

No, this was what bothered him! This! "No, it's really fine," he said, as smoothly as he could. Abe reached up, and ran his fingers through Mihashi's hair. The level of reassurance Mihashi needed was always unreal, so he shouldn't be surprised. He probably shouldn't ask, either, but... "Why?"

"You never..." Mihashi tried to smile at him; the smile was a spectacular failure. "... kiss back."

Outrageous! "Wrong!"

"But I always s-start..."

Yes, this was true, but it was only because Mihashi had so many problems when Abe tried. Pointing this out would only make things worse, though, so he took a calming breath.

The issue here, clearly, was that they were using words to mediate their interaction, and words were not a place where their interests collided very often. Abe pulled Mihashi down and gave him a thorough kiss, and it was good, good enough to make him get hard. He hoped that Mihashi felt that, because it certainly wasn't something he could fake. "You see?" he said, after a minute or so of this. "I like you."

"Abe-kun likes me..." Mihashi said, melting.

"I really like you." Abe looked off to the side. He hated being backed into a corner like this, but it pleased him too. He had no idea why.

Mihashi lit up, like a high firecracker or something. "I like you too!" At the very least, like he was high.

They were back in business. The kissing commenced properly this time, with Mihashi acting in accordance with his known aptitude for emotional abandon. This was not the same thing as pure physical abandon; Mihashi stuttered and balked too much for that. But it was abandon all the same, because it was like he just couldn't hold his feelings back: not his sadness, not his guilt, not his hesitations, not his pride.

Not his happiness. Not his joy.

Not anything.

Slowly, but passionately, Mihashi moved off from Abe's lips, kissing down along his chin, then under it, and then down the side of his neck. Nice. This was a lot more like it. Abe kept his mouth shut, holding back on any encouraging (or discouraging) commentary.

When they eventually did go all the way... Abe clenched his hands into fists, flushing a bit more. When that happened, it would obviously have to be Mihashi on top. Just because it seriously couldn't happen any other way.

He had no idea why he liked this either.

Abe shifted a little, his body heavy under Mihashi's, readjusting himself slightly so he could get more comfortable. So good. He would just lie back, and enjoy himself, and Mihashi would continue with his biting little kisses, sucking at the side of his neck, a little harder and harder each time as he moved down towards his collarbone, pushing Abe's tee shirt down a bit so he could really get in there.

A little harder, a little more. Harder, and more...

"Oh no..."

Mihashi sounded horrified, and scrambled off Abe in a moment, panting.

Abe opened one eye, looking over to where Mihashi was inexplicably cringing, halfway across the room. It was like he'd teleported. "How did you get over there so fast?" he said, probably coming off as sullen even though he was mostly just confused. There was no way he'd done anything wrong!

"L-l-l-look..."

Look... where? Abe tilted his head back, as far as he could. Nothing but wall behind him. He then looked from side to side. Nothing alarming there, either. Abe sat up. "What?"

Mihashi was pointing at him, finger shaking, mouth open wide. "Y-y-you--"

What? No, seriously... what? Abe kind of wished that Tajima were around to interpret. Or, at the very least, that Hanai were around to serve as witness. How could anyone be possibly held responsible for blowing up in pissed off anger when someone pulled this kind of shit? Didn't matter that it was Mihashi, world-class flake. How unfair was it that Mihashi could do all these amazing stunts of unintentional callousness and get off scot-free? It was simply lucky that Abe had a soft spot in his heart for this moron, because... because!

Abe pointed back, a singular stabbing gesture. "Make sense!" he commanded.

As if that would work. But at least he could try?

"Hh-hh-hhh..."

"_Huh_??"

"H-hick-hick-y."

"What? Really?" Abe's irritation vanished, replaced with grudging fascination. A hickey? He'd never even seen one of those before, let alone had one. He looked down briefly, unhelpfully, and then stood. After dusting himself off, he walked over to look in the mirror over Mihashi's dresser, angling his chin up and to the side, touching his neck with his fingertips as he examined himself in the mirror.

There was a small, coin-shaped red mark just above his collarbone. "It's just a bruise," he said critically, after he'd thoroughly checked it out.

As expected, Mihashi was freaking out over nothing.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry!"

Turning his back to the mirror, he frowned down at Mihashi, who was still cowering off in the corner, bowing several times in apology while still kneeling on the floor.

"Stop that," he said. "I used to get worse from Haruna all the time."

"Haruna-san?" Mihashi looked up, lips quivering and tears welling up at the corner of his eyes.

"Baseball bruises," Abe clarified, putting his hands on his hips. "This is nothing compared to those."

"B-b-bb--but."

"But nothing."

"No... but... I mean... it's not... just..." Mihashi was forcing himself, his face turning red as he pressured himself to finish his thought.

Abe clenched his jaw impatiently, but after a moment he went over to Mihashi, going down on one knee. Wordlessly, he held out his right hand. He really was getting better at this, he reflected, as Mihashi grabbed the offered hand as if Abe were throwing him a lifeline. There was a little sniffling, but not nearly to the degree Abe used to see, and with only minor difficulty, Mihashi continued.

"It's... people... can tell. It's... different. O-obvious."

Hmm. Abe supposed this might be true. The hickey was definitely rounder than most bruises, and redder, and the location... well, probably the location alone gave it away. He'd never gotten a baseball hit to the throat, which was just as well since that would probably have killed him. "Ah," he said finally. "Still, who cares?" He certainly didn't. "I'll just cover it up."

Mihashi looked around a little, doing his "eh? eh?" routine, before pointing at himself. "I-I do?"

Ahh. There was no stifling his sigh this time, as Abe dropped his head down nervelessly, as if all the ligaments in his body had been cut. It was a choice between utter surrender or absolute rage, and the later was highly unlikely to end in anything other than renewed alienation, a compromise of their sacred trust.

Wasn't this a familiar problem? It wasn't quite the same as that one time near the end of their first match with Tosei, when Mihashi hesitated before throwing the ball back to home base, worried that Abe would get hurt.

It wasn't the same, but it was close.

Sometimes he wondered. Mihashi wasn't a coward, not really. There was always some reason he pulled back, maybe because he wanted to save face for his team, or because he was terrified of his own selfishness. It had taken Abe a while to really get this, but he got it now. So sometimes he wondered. Wasn't it _Mihashi_ who was the one always looking for an out, calling for a halt to their illicit shenanigans the way he always paused and second guessed and what have you? Wasn't all that nonsense simply code for something else?

"Stupid," Abe said at last. Not in an angry way, just... frustrated.

"Eheh..." Mihashi laughed a little, nervously. "Sorry."

Abe rubbed at the spot on his neck absently. "Where did you learn about hickeys, anyway?" he asked, thoughts going elsewhere.

That whole detour had cost precious break time minutes, and so they'd fallen somewhat behind on the count... probably no way to make up for it, either, not without kick-starting an ill-advised, tactically aggressive strategy.

Maybe he could improvise, but he'd already taken a big risk when he pulled Mihashi in for that kiss... and that had probably only worked since Mihashi basically asked him to do it. Abe looked over to the kotatsu, where both his and Mihashi's phones were. First, he should check the time...

As he turned to crawl over there, he pulled his hand back expecting Mihashi to release it easily... but instead, Mihashi was holding on really tightly. "Eh?" he said, turning back to look at his pitcher.

"T-tajima- k-kun..." Mihashi's face had turned red, answering Abe's question at last.

"Oh." That made sense. Tajima was always sharing his porn with Mihashi, and so it stood to reason that he'd looked upon Mihashi as some kind of comrade of perversion. Was there a topic that Tajima _wouldn't_ bring up, if given the opportunity? Abe turned around once more, hoping that this was settled. He cared a lot less about Mihashi's porn habits than Mihashi seemed to assume. Caring about the _time_, however...

But Mihashi just tightened his grip.

"I-it was a long time... ago... I promise... really... b-before you..."

Jeez, wouldn't he just let go already? Abe looked back once more, pasting a smile on his face. With his free hand, he waved it off. "Fine, fine." See, he could totally be lighthearted!

"You... don't mind?"

"Do you think I really care about what you two talk about?"

"Talk?" Mihashi gave him a confused, lost little look. Finally, finally, he let go of Abe's hand.

Abe went over and picked up his phone, flipping it open. Quarter past eight. "Five more minutes," he announced.

Mihashi was still off in his corner, but when Abe called out the time he stood up slowly and walked over, sitting down next to him. Seemed he couldn't look Abe in the eye... perhaps he felt guilty that he'd left Abe with a hard on without planning in the time to take care of it? Considering Mihashi's speed, five minutes just wasn't enough. "Don't worry," Abe said reassuringly, shrugging. "I'll jerk off later when I get home."

This reassurance was met with wide eyes. "Um..."

"Your homework comes first," Abe added. Honestly, Mihashi should know this by now!

Now Mihashi blinked, several times, but it appeared that he came to some kind of internal decision, and amazingly, he stopped moving around for once, becoming... nearly calm. And then, surprisingly, he smiled, a slow warm smile. It was a really nice smile, one which made Abe feel warm inside too. "I still have a few minutes, though..."

Abe nodded. It always satisfied him when Mihashi understood him. "Don't start anything you can't finish," he said, a little piously, but also kind of smug. Without direct stimulation, he wasn't all that hard any more, but he was still more turned on than he'd like to be, and if Mihashi went for anything too interesting, Abe might forget all about the time, and that would completely break the break-time rules.

"Okay." Mihashi reached up to touch the side of Abe's neck, brushing over the mark he'd accidentally made. "D-do you want me to do anything... in particular?"

Options? Abe grinned, in real pleasure. He always liked options.

There was a timer app on his phone, so he opened it up and set it for three minutes... and then, in a moment of generosity, reconsidered and pushed it back all the way to four. Timer set, he held the phone up so that Mihashi could see. "Let's do a timed challenge."

"...challenge?"

Yes. Abe could see that Mihashi was feeling a bit faint; probably still worked up in self-recrimination over the damn hickey as if it had been something that could actually damage him. Bah. Anyhow. In a way, at this moment Mihashi was like any opponent he might come up against in the box. Separating out intentions from goals, there were specific ways to defeat this particular player... Mihashi needed to get over his stupid guilt so he could study properly, otherwise this entire evening would have been a waste.

Give him an easy victory, was the conclusion he'd come to in his mind.

So, something that would be fun, that was a bit challenging but not hard... "I want you to find my one ticklish spot."

"B-but..."

"I don't have one?" Abe smirked. "That's just what I want everyone to think. This is an important secret, so don't go blabbing to Izumi. I'll give you one hint: it's not under my arms." He held his phone off to the side, thumb hovering over the timer's start button. "Ready?"

Mihashi looked down, and then up, and then down again. Mute, he nodded once.

"Go." Abe punched the button, and dropped the phone.

For a long moment, Mihashi just stared at him, shaking and perplexed, but all Abe did was get into position, a nice crouch similar to his normal catcher's pose. Mihashi took a stiff, swift breath and straightened, eyes darting around bashfully, his gaze appearing to land at several obvious target zones, as well as a few not so obvious. This wasn't just a pause for no reason; Mihashi was thinking, and Abe approved.

First stop, Mihashi went for his feet; an expected opening gambit, and completely wrong. Before he finished reaching for them Abe just shook his head, saying "not there." Mihashi looked up into Abe's eyes after that as if weighing the truthfulness of this assertion, but before it could piss Abe off that he was being doubted Mihashi just nodded, in seeming acceptance. Gingerly, Mihashi curled his finger into the standard attack position. Next he went for the neck, but that wasn't it either, and Abe shook his head once again.

"It's not..." Mihashi angled his gaze lower, and blushed. "Around here?" He cupped his fingers between Abe's legs, patting upward.

"You wish."

"How about...?" Mihashi pressed his hands to Abe's sides, just above the hips, and did something with his fingers which was similar to a tickle, and yet amazingly not one.

"Closer."

"Mmm?" It looked like Mihashi was getting into this, as he became thoughtful before moving his hands forward, over the front of Abe's belly. "M-maybe here?"

"Come on. No way."

Finally Mihashi reached around to his back, patting the area around his lower back. "Here?"

"Almost." Abe smiled. "You gonna go for it?"

Of course he was. Mihashi went for it, and started a slow tickle, gently scritching up his back and stopping at the right place when Abe shivered. There. Right in the middle. "Tch--" He tried to hold it in, because he hated being tickled, really, but this was for Mihashi so he didn't try all that hard.

"There?" Mihashi asked, almost coy.

"T-there." Abe broke down into helpless laughter.

.+.

When it was time for Abe-kun to leave, Mihashi felt sad.

Not very sad, not _too_ sad. Just... sad.

It was in this forlorn state that he stood to the side near his front door, watching as Abe-kun pulled on his shoes and finished bundling up. As usual Abe-kun was giving out his final instructions for the night, and so Mihashi tried to listen closely, even though it was hard to listen when he felt sad. The next day was a school day, so Abe-kun would be off in class while Mihashi went to his own. Afterwards they would meet up to work out for a while, maintaining fitness during the final lingering days of winter, but after that Abe-kun wasn't going to be around like he had been today, since he had his own life and things to do and couldn't be around every minute just to make sure Mihashi didn't screw up.

A whole day with only a little bit of the time spent with Abe-kun.

It would be okay. Mihashi enjoyed spending time with Tajima-kun and Hama-chan and Izumi-kun, too. Because of Abe-kun, he was a lot more friendly with everyone. He wasn't worried.

But he still felt sad.

"... don't forget to take a break after third period, and bring a snack. An apple would be good. Any fruit or vegetable would be fine, but no candy, okay? You'll be having most of your protein at lunch, so it's important that you mix in some other food types-- healthy food types-- the rest of the day. Oh, after that you have your math class, right? If you have any questions don't be afraid to call up Nishihiro, I checked and he should be free tomorrow evening, so if you are in a real pinch, just go over to his place." Abe-kun stopped and gave Mihashi a dubious look. "Maybe I'll have him call you, just in case."

"N-no, it's fine. I'll call him..."

"Call him no matter what. You don't have to go over there if you think you can handle it, but it would be good to have him go over the basic ideas with you, just to be safe. Will you do that?"

Mihashi nodded vigorously. Absolutely, absolutely he would do that. If Abe-kun wanted him to, he absolutely would call Nishihiro-kun.

Abe-kun stood up, pulling on his hat. He appeared ready to go. "I think that's all," he said, sounding pretty satisfied with himself. "Did you get all that?"

He did indeed. "Y-yes!"

It was not strange for Abe-kun to look at him hard, like he was doing now, because sometimes Mihashi was such a liar. It wasn't intentional the way he sometimes lied, because the idea of disappointing Abe-kun was crushing, paralyzing, and so sometimes untruths fell from his lips, despite trying so hard to be the good person Abe-kun wanted him to be. Right now, though, he wasn't lying, so he made sure to sound extra earnest as he shook his head up and down rapidly. "Yes! S-snacks and apples and... math. And, Nishihiro-kun..."

"Right." Abe-kun gave him that beautiful smile of his. Abe-kun was so beautiful. "So I'll get going, then."

"W-wait!" Mihashi held up his hand, urging Abe-kun to halt. "Just a min.. second."

And without seeing whether Abe-kun was waiting, trusting that he would, Mihashi spun around and sprinted back to his room, digging into his closet to find his extra scarf. He couldn't help but notice that Abe-kun didn't have one, and today especially he would need one. It was not the best scarf, but it was a good one, and it would keep Abe-kun warm, and, and... covered.

Upon his return he held out the scarf, holding it forth with both hands. "Please. For you?"

There was a tense moment as Abe-kun looked at the scarf, expression carefully blank. Mihashi knew that look, and blanched. The scales were out, and his goodness was being weighed.

After looking at the scarf for a really long time, Abe-kun looked up at Mihashi. "Thanks," he said, and he didn't sound the least bit mad.

Thank goodness.

As Abe-kun wrapped the scarf around his neck, Mihashi exhaled sharply. He could feel much more at ease, now, knowing that Abe-kun would make it home without being subjected to unwelcome scrutiny. But would Abe-kun just take it off the moment he got home? He might, he just didn't seem to care about some things, and it baffled Mihashi, a little, because some of those things were matters of consequence. It wasn't like Abe-kun was thoughtless, the way Mihashi was, and his indifference to convention was simply because his soul was so bright, shining, and pure... but. It was dangerous, wasn't it? The way Abe-kun didn't watch out... didn't care?

Nothing could make him deathly afraid more than this.

Mihashi watched in continued worry as Abe-kun walked out the door, and then waved. He stood at the threshold with the door open, and watched until Abe-kun turned the corner, going to the side of the house where he'd parked his bike. It was cold out; Mihashi held his hands up before his mouth, breathing warmth into them.

He watched until Abe-kun was gone. And he watched until after he was gone, too.

If only Abe-kun knew.

For instance, there was that whole thing about Tajima-kun. Abe-kun didn't pursue it, because naturally Abe-kun was not concerned with such things and so he didn't even notice. It wasn't even all that bad a thing, the story about the hickey; he and Tajima-kun had been good friends for such a long time now, and so that one day they had just been fooling around, being silly. It didn't mean anything. But it would be hard to explain, and it was so tempting to just lie. Abe-kun saved him from having to confront this dire test of character, because Mihashi wasn't so sure that he'd pass. Depending on Abe-kun was wonderful, but doing so too much had a dangerous side, because Abe-kun didn't protect himself properly.

In some very curious way, Abe-kun was sometimes surprisingly blind.

It made him sad.

Up in the sky the stars were shining, bright and pure. Behind the stars the night was dark.

_I don't want to hurt you, Abe Takaya-kun, I don't want to break you. _

Don't let me break you.


	2. his unintended error

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now with 100% more Mizutani! Let's spend some time with Class 7.

_his unintended error_

"Pick a card, any card!"

Mizutani shook the cards he had helpfully fanned out, expression hopeful as his gaze darted from Abe to Hanai, and then back again. It was lunchtime, and it was the sixth day in a row that Mizutani had broken out a deck of cards, painstakingly shuffled it, and then attempted to work his newly acquired magic skills.

Abe exchanged a glance with Hanai, wordlessly communicating all he found wrong with this entire situation. Hanai nodded, capturing the nuances of Abe's expression, in agreement but also with some telegraphed emoting of his own. Now that it was mid January, they'd been classmates for almost a full year, and in that time Captain and First Vice-Captain of the Nishiura baseball team had grown close enough to develop a complex non-verbal language not at all related to usual baseball signage, one of raised eyebrows and non-blinking stares and the occasional gaping in disbelief.

Right now their secret conversation went something like this: Abe was all, can you believe this guy? And then Hanai was all, I know, right? And then Abe was all, no way am I taking a card, I did it yesterday, to which Hanai sighed and was all, okay, fine. Hanai plucked a card from Mizutani's eager grasp.

At times Mizutani also participated in this particular classroom code, but Abe and Hanai shared a deep bond of difficult-to-repress irritability which tended to give a level of sophistication to their secret communiqués which not even Mizutani could appreciate. Even though he tried. Mizutani sniffed. "Am I boring you, Catcher-san?"

By far, Mizutani's most annoying habit. Abe twitched. Mizutani had taken to calling him "Catcher-san" almost exclusively, as if that were his actual name, and the worst part of it was that it was catching on. Other classmates called him that now, too. Sometimes even Hanai did. The only one who reliably did _not_ was Shinooka, but that was cold comfort in the face of such overwhelming impertinence. "Not really," Abe said finally.

"_I'm_ bored," Hanai announced, looking at his card with a vivid lack of enthusiasm.

"That's because you two are both such stick-in-the-muds," Mizutani said, waving for Hanai to return the card. Once he had the card in hand, Mizutani placed it at the bottom of the deck and began to re-shuffle.

Abe leaned to the side, slumping all his weight onto one elbow and resting his cheek on a knuckled fist, taking a supervisory position. "And you're..." He gestured with his free hand, waving it vaguely. "You're whatever the hell this is."

Hanai crossed his arms over his chest and sat back. He closed his eyes. That was all the commentary he needed to make.

"I'm a magician. I'm magic!" Mizutani fumbled a bit with the cards, frowning in concentration.

"Your technique sucks," Abe pointed out.

"Thank you for the input, Catcher-san. I will take it seriously into account."

"Really."

"Of course, _really_."

Mizutani was still fumbling with the cards, his lack of experience with basic shuffling dead obvious. He seemed quite cheerful about it, too.

"Will we be seeing magic anytime this coming century?" Hanai asked, eyes still closed.

"Not if Magician-san has anything to say about it," Abe said, with a certain calculated viciousness.

"That's Magician-sama to you!"

"Magician-sama," Hanai echoed.

And as Hanai registered his disbelief, Abe stood, all stately and dangerous. He held out his hands in an all-too-familiar attack pose. "Magician Moron, more like."

"Scary, Catcher-san." Mizutani's eyes lit up, not taking them off his cards, not looking up at Abe at all. "Ah, voila!" He held out the ace of spades, waving it towards Hanai. "It was this, wasn't it?"

Hanai looked, shrugged. "I guess."

This was pretty much how Abe had spent every day of his long, cold winter. He stared down at Mizutani, and for a moment things looked pretty grim. But only for a moment. He shook himself, taking a deep breath and counting to ten. Mihashi wouldn't like it if he blew up at Mizutani, and would be pretty upset if he found out, and moreover it wasn't like Mizutani was an actual asshole. He just was supremely obnoxious. "Ah, whatever," Abe said, deflating. He sat back down.

"You know," Mizutani said, giving Abe a direct, bemused look. "I thought you were better than that, Catcher-san. Where are all the withering complaints? The terrifying evil? It's like you're not even trying anymore."

"You're _trying_ to bait him?" Hanai, sounding slightly impressed.

"Hey! I get bored too!" Mizutani replied defensively.

"Is that why you're teaching yourself magic?" Abe.

"No, that's 'cuz I wanna show it to Izumi. He's going to be so jealous."

Again Abe and Hanai exchanged a wordless glance. Izumi, jealous? Was it even possible? Abe had given up trying to understand Mizutani's friendship with Izumi a long time ago, but what seemed weirdest about it was how sometimes Mizutani himself didn't seem to know what the hell he was doing. But Izumi seemed to find it charming, even when no one else did.

Before he could think too hard about the issue, Mizutani flashed his newly-mixed deck of cards right in Abe's face. "Your turn. Pick one."

Having already vowed to himself that he wasn't going to play this game today, Abe shrugged.

"Come on. Please?"

Mizutani was becomingly desperate, but Abe's heart was made of stone.

"Catcher-sama?"

Abe rolled his eyes.

"But--"

"Shinooka!" Abe cut Mizutani off, turning to look across the room as he called out loudly for the team manager, who also happened to be a classmate. Shinooka was off in a circle of several girls, chatting about whatever. Everyone over in that group stopped talking when Abe shouted, and Shinooka sat straight up, becoming stiff and attentive. As one they all turned to look at him.

"Yes?" There was a bit of a blush on Shinooka's cheeks.

"Come over here."

Slowly, very slowly, Shinooka stood, and then kind of wandered over, walking as if mesmerized. Abe felt satisfied and superior as he glanced back at Mizutani, who seemed suddenly agitated for some reason.

"Can I help you?" Shinooka asked. Quietly, and composed. She stood next to their little center of pushed-together desks.

"Are you in any way a fan of magic tricks?"

Shinooka pressed a finger to her lips, looking up as she thought about this briefly. "Um. I guess?"

Abe stood, pulling out his chair and then stepping behind Shinooka, which he followed by putting his hands on her shoulders and guiding her to sit down in his place. "Take over for me." He thought for a moment, and then added, "please."

Probably he was still a bit too abrupt, because Shinooka looked up at him, expression gently confused, pale and faint. "... what?"

He pointed. "Mizutani."

Mizutani was gaping at him. Actually, so was Hanai, although Hanai should understand and therefore it was perplexing that he didn't. This solved everyone's problems. Shinooka could find amusement in Mizutani's lame tricks, Mizutani would enjoy showing them off, and while she was hanging out Abe could quiz her about the upcoming spring season. Practice matches would start in little under a month, and he wanted to know which teams she'd lined up for them to play against. A perfect plan, or it would be, if people could just keep up with him for once.

Well, fine. Abe had no problems kicking things off if they were all going to act like bewildered idiots. He grabbed a chair from an unoccupied desk nearby, and brought it around so he could sit between Shinooka and Mizutani. "Please, indulge him. Hanai and I have been guinea pigs long enough. For you the experience will be fresh and mildly entertaining."

"O-okay." Shinooka was wide-eyed but soon turned to face Mizutani, her pose very proper and demure as she clenched her hands in her lap. Abe approved; she was a pretty good kid, all things considered, and it was nice how she helped them all out as much as she did. Maybe he should do something for her sometime. Take her to a baseball game, perhaps? She'd probably like that.

For his part, Mizutani had taken to shuffling his cards on overdrive, trying too hard to show off some flair and therefore becoming especially clumsy in the process. Abe smiled. He was so good at revenge. It was scary how good he was at it, sometimes. Watching Mizutani squirm in front of a female was always very satisfying.

"Uh, hi Shinooka," Hanai said, rubbing the back of his head and looking all kinds of awkward.

"Hi, Hanai." Shinooka smiled at him, but soon turned back to watch Mizutani's magical "action," intent.

"So." Abe coughed a little. "Shinooka. How many practice matches have we got so far?"

"Ah." An air of enlightenment dropped down over Shinooka, and now she turned to favor him with a smile, finally. "Five. I know that's not many, but we'll have more lined up soon. I'm in talks with a few different schools."

"Um. Okay. Ready now... pick a card?" Mizutani asked as if his entire reputation were on the line.

"Any threats?" Abe asked just as Shinooka was picking out her card, being unusually thoughtful about it as if it actually mattered which card she took.

"We start with your favorite, Musashino First."

"Ugh. Seriously?"

"Yeah... sorry about that. But they're really good, and..."

"And Haruna probably begged for it." Abe knew he was in danger of becoming irrationally angry over this, so he tamped down on that forcefully. Musashino _was_ good, even if it were all due to Haruna, and everyone would benefit for coming up against such a talented pitcher. It was a privilege to face them, and although Abe was tired of Haruna always trying to suck up to him, as if he actually cared to make up for all that crap from when they were in a battery together... well, he'd made his peace with that. If Abe's connections bought them this opportunity, he shouldn't disdain it. Even though he was very, very tempted. "Don't worry. It's a good grab. We needed something strong like that to start us off. Who else?"

"We got Mihoshi again." Shinooka leaned forward. Was she grinning? "But this time, we get the _regulars_."

"Niiice." Hanai whistled. "I really like their grounds."

"But they're so far away," Mizutani said, sounding far less enthused. Heck, he was practically whining. It was hilarious because he sounded so morose while simultaneously shuffling his deck in his uselessly manic fashion.

How could anyone take that long to shuffle a deck of cards every single time? Abe was thankful he'd had the keen foresight to invite Shinooka over... she was making this whole fiasco a lot more fun.

"Mihashi will be very happy," Abe said. He totally would be, too. It kind of made Abe happy just thinking about it.

"I don't know." Shinooka frowned. "There's some kind of scheduling conflict, so the date is not set in stone. The day we'd originally agreed upon is one where Mihashi won't be able to attend, because--"

Abe cut her off. "What?" He hadn't heard anything about this!

"He's got some kind of family thing. Momokan already approved the day off." Shinooka turned to look him straight in the eyes. "I think it was his mom who arranged it, though."

"Oh." Abe found himself relaxing, which was surprising since he didn't even realize he'd tensed up.

That made sense. Mihashi probably didn't know about it yet, or had forgotten completely, which had to be why Abe himself had not been informed. It was okay. No big deal.

"Abe, one day you've really got to learn how to chill." Hanai, butting in with a completely unsolicited opinion.

"Totally." Mizutani, who apparently agreed with Hanai wholeheartedly. He held up a card. "Seven of hearts?" he asked, addressing Shinooka.

"Yes!" Shinooka clapped, and Mizutani just went tomato red.

"Again?" Mizutani managed to ask, fatally hopeful.

"Sure." Shinooka seemed to be getting into this. Abe was glad, because otherwise he would have felt like a jerk, even though he kind of knew all along that she would enjoy this stupidity.

"Woo-hoo!" Mizutani raised one hand high, pumping his fist. "I really _am_ magic!"

And now Shinooka was laughing, holding one hand up to shield her mouth while she laughed.

"I wonder what kind of family thing Mihashi has," Abe said, sitting back, musing. Thinking on it a bit, he couldn't come up with anything.

Well, there was only one thing to do. He pulled his mobile phone from his pocket to send Mihashi a text.

Or, at least he tried to. Mizutani reached out and swiped the phone from his hand before he could type anything. "Oh no you don't!"

"What!" Abe was highly offended. The hell?

"Ask Mihashi the next time you see him, like a normal person."

Hanai was shaking his head. "Come on, Mizutani. Give him back his phone."

Was there anything abnormal about sending texts? This was so stupid. Abe couldn't contain himself. Mizutani was really asking for it. Before Mizutani could do anything else, Abe was on his feet and reaching for Mizutani's throat. Well, okay, his head. But he seriously wanted to strangle his classmate right now. Abe screwed his fists into the sides of Mizutani's head, hard.

"Ow, ow, ow!" Mizutani dropped the phone. It clattered onto the desk.

"I was just joking!" Mizutani protested, grabbing Abe by the forearms and trying to force him to disengage.

Abe looked down. Shinooka appeared startled. Aw, damn. He'd went too far. "Fine," he said, disgusted, letting go.

Hanai gave Mizutani a Look. It was a part of his subspecialty nonverbal side-language with Mizutani, so Abe couldn't quite decipher it, but after a moment Mizutani mumbled, "Sorry."

Picking up his phone, Abe stared at it for a moment, and then buried it back in his pocket before sitting back down. "Happy?"

There was a blunted noise, which turned out to be Hanai kicking Mizutani under the table. "No, I mean it. I'm really sorry," Mizutani said, more clearly, and sounding like he actually did mean it.

Oh, well, damn. He'd have to really forgive him now. "Forget it," he said. Abe then scratched his cheek. "So, Shinooka," he began, effectively changing the subject. "... speaking of Mihashi, I saw him yesterday and when I was there it occurred to me that since spring is almost here, maybe we should increase the frequency of team workouts."

"_I said I was sorry_!" Now it was Mizutani's turn to stand, but he was looking more anguished than angry.

"A little extra workout time isn't going to kill you," Abe said, looking up at Mizutani. "It's not revenge, this is just common sense. We all need to do it." Abe looked over at Hanai, who nodded his confirmation. This sent Mizutani into another fit of disbelief, but Abe ignored that. "So, Shinooka... do you think that's feasible?"

Shinooka had already pulled out her phone, on which she kept all of her scheduling notes as well as the master calendar. "It will be tight, what with the soccer team needing to use the facilities too, but I think we can probably arrange for two or maybe even three more sessions a week. I assume that's enough?"

Abe nodded. "For now. Obviously, everyone will still need to be doing their own individual training, but yeah, that works." He glanced at Mizutani out of the corner of his eyes, with a leading and mockingly compassionate smile. "Agreed?"

Mizutani plopped back down into his chair heavily, limp and defeated. "Agreed."

Hanai had begun picking up the scattered cards from the desk, reassembling the deck. "I'll run it by Momokan." Once finished, he returned them to Mizutani, placing the deck neatly in front of him where he could easily pick it back up. He took a moment to look out the window, then, where a light non-sticking snow was falling under a dreary gray sky. "Hard to believe it's almost spring," he added.

Spring. With spring came the invitational tournament at Koshien, and although Abe's injuries had hurt them in the fall, they've been able to scrape by enough to obtain a slot.

Would they go all the way? Unknown, but what they did now would make all the difference. And no matter what, they still would only be second years by then. Even if they didn't win, there was still the summer tournament to consider, and after that... fall qualifications, again, and a whole other year to aim for glory. By then they should have a whole crop of new recruits for the team, and from them a stronger team could be assembled, one with depth and therefore robustness. They would be invincible.

And he and Mihashi would be at the center of all that.

"And _there's_ the evil Catcher-san we all know and love," Mizutani said, and Abe blinked.

Everyone was smiling at him: Mizutani, Shinooka, and even Hanai. Had he really been that obvious with his mental scheming?

"I was just thinking about Mihashi," Abe said, defensively.

Mizutani reached over to clasp him on the shoulder. "The best thing about you is that you think that somehow makes it all better."

He was also openly laughing, now, but in a very friendly, chummy way, so Abe had to presume that he wasn't being insulted, although that sounded fairly condescending, and condescension from Mizutani was... a bit much. To put it mildly.

Time to appeal to Shinooka. "Is there something wrong with what I said?"

"Not at all," she replied, soothing, before giving Mizutani an edged, icy glance that cut his laughter cold.

"I think it's cute, too," Mizutani said, taken aback, but not backing down before Shinooka's glare. "You don't think it's cute?"

That caused Shinooka to wilt completely, looking down in embarrassment, and fidgeting.

"Both of you are so weird," Abe said, finally. They really were.

And now it was Hanai's turn to laugh, which he did, very loudly, with a connoisseur's appreciation. "Tell 'em," he said, and Abe was gratified to have at least one person in this class who understood him without making a state case out of it.

"Are you done with the cards?" Abe asked Mizutani. If he was then they could let Shinooka go back and spend time with her friends.

"No!" With reactive industry, Mizutani swiped the cards from the desk and began another one of his aggressive, interminable shuffles.

Too bad. Well, it wasn't like he couldn't make use of Shinooka's continued presence to ask her a few more questions. "Anyway, as I was saying, in regards to Mihashi... "

Before he could go on, to talk about his high hopes and intricate plans for the coming tournament season, there was a loud smacking noise from the row of desks nearby. Abe turned to look. It was one of their classmates, he couldn't remember the guy's name, and the guy was glaring at him as if Abe had killed twenty kittens and then sent their dead bodies to an orphanage to traumatize the tender hearts of children. The guy had both of his hands flat against his desk, which suggested that the noise had come from him violently slapping them down on the wood, and when he noticed that he'd caught Abe's attention, he laid in.

"Could you please just shut the fuck up already about fucking _Mihashi_?"

Huh?

Abe stared for a moment, dumbfounded, and then turned to stare blankly at his friends. What the hell was this?

But now Hanai, Mizutani, and even Shinooka were giving the guy nearly identical frowns, synched up and radiating a level of disapproval that was pretty damn impressive.

"Rude, Shimizu. Really rude." This was Hanai, in full-on captain mode.

Shimizu. Yeah, right. That was the guy's name. Abe wished he was better with names.

"Come on, Hanai. Aren't you sick of it too? Do we really have to hear 'Mihashi, Mihashi, Mihashi' Every. Damn. Day?" There was a lot of resentful scorn in the guy--Shimizu's-- voice.

"Mihashi is our team's ace," Hanai said quietly. "Of course we're going to talk about him a lot."

"Ha! Yeah right! There's no 'we' about it! If it was all of you, that might be one thing, maybe I'd think there was something important going on with that lame retard I wasn't getting. But it's just him!" Shimizu nodded sharply towards Abe. "Doesn't that fucking annoy you?"

"Lame retard." Abe repeated. Lame retard.

But now it was Mizutani's turn. He pointed at Shimizu, "You're the lame retard!"

And Shinooka sniffed, tossing her head, a perfect portrait of female rejection.

For whatever reason, Shimizu flinched when Shinooka did her little thing, but it seemed like he was determined to barrel along, reckless and heedless. "I'm sick of it. Sorry, everyone, but that's the damn truth." Shimizu stared at Abe, and there was not a speck of fear in his eyes, only inexplicable resentment. It sounded like something that had been brewing for some time. Abe was surprised, because he never spared a second thought for this person, and was still standing on the precipice of his bafflement, unable to parse anything beyond 'lame retard.' Shimizu continued. "Why don't you take your damn boner for Mihashi and take care of it privately, and not go on and on about it like some obsessed, perverted freak?"

The rest of the class had gone silent. Everyone was listening in on this rant, and Abe looked around. Apparently all of Shinooka's friends were on his side, since they were all giving Shimizu identical frowns, and it appeared that most of the rest of the girls in the room were also in agreement. The reaction of the other boys in the room was more mixed. Shimizu wasn't the only one who felt this way, then.

"I apologize," Abe said, and there was a note of hard, clear warning in his voice. He met Shimizu's stare eye-to-eye. This was the only apology he was going to give.

And he was only giving it to keep the peace. Lame retard. What the fuck?

"I don't want your apologies! I want you to shut up about Mihashi already! Can you get it through that one track mind of yours? No one else cares! You're just driving me nuts, give it up, it's _sick_."

It was not for nothing that Abe possessed such a sharp, strategic mind. He was very accustomed to dealing with enemies. And even though his "enemies" were usually nothing more than opponents at the ball park, it wasn't like Abe didn't know how to translate those skills into civilian use. For whatever reason, and it really didn't matter what the reason was, Shimizu was making a stab at trying to isolate him, to pick him off by divorcing the sympathies of the class away from him, to turn him into a classroom pariah. Abe was not going to let that happen.

"I'm sorry for you," Abe said, and he didn't bother to hide the 'sick,' twisted smile of his that Mizutani liked to categorize as evil. "Did I turn you down sometime without even knowing? I can't remember."

"_What_?"

Shimizu was spluttering, but there were a few unkind snickers from various corners of the room, and that tittering, judgmental laughter was not directed at Abe.

You brought this upon yourself, Abe thought to himself, without pity. "Why are you so concerned about the state of my boners, anyway? You that interested in my dick?"

Shinooka gasped a little, and Abe felt a little bad about having to use such language in front of her. But this was how boys fought, and he supposed she had to learn, sometime. He'd apologize to her later, but right now she wasn't the problem.

He couldn't win if he weren't willing to be even more crude and inappropriate than his opponent. And Abe would pretty much do whatever he needed to do, to win.

"It's pretty cowardly to call me out in front of the entire class, where I can't fight you. All I can assume is that you're looking for more... personal... payback." Abe looked to the side, as if embarrassed on behalf of his would-be tormentor. "Sorry, but I just don't do guys."

This was a total, hypocritical lie. But so what? Who cared? He could use this prejudice in his favor.

But now Hanai was putting a hand on Abe's shoulder, and it was weighed down with a sense of warning. "That's enough," Hanai said.

Abe looked at Hanai, and was surprised to see a sad look in Hanai's eyes. But the look was gone after a moment, and then Hanai stood up, rubbing his hands together briskly and purposefully.

"Shimizu," Hanai said, voice deep and full of obvious threat. "Apologize right now. _Right_ now."

So Hanai was willing to give Shimizu an out, in order to keep the peace.

Fine.

After all, Abe wanted to keep the peace too.

The apology couldn't have been more ungracious. Shimizu looked down, and you could tell he was massively pissed off just by the tone of his voice. "I'm sorry," he said, with a sneer.

"_Why_ are you sorry?" Abe asked, feeling pushy and righteous.

"Abe." Hanai growled, but then almost immediately turned back to stare at Shimizu. "Answer him."

"I- I--" Shimizu clearly didn't want to have to specify. Abe knew he was going to feel that way, which was why he'd asked in the first place. "I'm sorry for... god, you asshole... I'm sorry for saying anything. Say whatever you want about goddamn Mihashi."

Abe nodded. "Fine. I will."

Quiet settled over the classroom once more. Abe sighed and shrugged, and turned away from Shimizu, hopefully forever. He never wanted to talk to that person again.

Once it became clear that the fight was well and truly over, conversations started picking back up around the classroom, in scattered fits and starts, but eventually picking up steam and going back to normal.

It wasn't normal at Abe's table, though. Hanai sat back down, and closed his eyes, and both Shinooka and Mizutani stared down at the desk, as if they felt guilty, or maybe just sad like Hanai. Abe wished he could cheer them up, but what could he say? Something about Mihashi? Seemed like that would be a bad idea at the present moment. And if he wasn't going to talk about Mihashi, then what else _would_ he talk about?

He didn't have a clue.


	3. his first strike

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Subtext for everyone! Abe confronts his demons, and goes to the mall.

_his first strike_

"Heh heh."

Abe held up a wood bat, testing its heft and then pulling out a few easy practice swings. Were he the superstitious sort, of course, he wouldn't be touching one of these at all, since wielding one was tantamount to telling the gods that he desired to go pro and there was probably some kind of tiresome bad luck associated with that. But what the hell.

Shinooka stood a safe distance away, admiring his stance. It was a Saturday afternoon, so no school, but everyone would be meeting up later at the school gym, to do some weight training as well as indoor aerobics... it was still just too damn cold out for practicing on the field.

Right now, though, he and Shinooka were taking care of business.

"Any luck?" Abe asked, making a few more swings before returning the bat to its display.

"This, this, this and this." Shinooka was juggling several different brands of baseball, cradled some in her arms while holding one in her hand. "And this."

"Lemme see." Abe grabbed the one from her hand, holding it up so he could carefully examine the stitching and assess the leather grade. She offered them to him one by one, and he looked over each with the same meticulous attention to detail as he had with the first.

Although Shinooka could almost certainly be trusted to do this job on her own, Abe had jumped on her request to have him tag along on her trip to the sports outlet at Aeon mall. Normally he hated the mall, hated it with every fiber of his testosterone infused being. But shopping for equipment for the team was different. His informed expertise couldn't help but outshine hers, since as far as he knew she didn't play any sports at all. Sure, she knew a lot about baseball (tragically, a lot more than Mihashi), but nothing beat first hand knowledge of the sport.

In any case, someone needed to come along, to help her carry everything back.

Once each ball had been examined, Abe looked at the two piles he'd made on a nearby table. Three immediate discards, only two potential keepers. He picked up the two remaining types, closing his eyes as he tried to determine if there was any appreciable weight difference... there wasn't, but it was always good to check. Next he checked out various throwing and pitching grips, and looked over the stitching one last time. It was a shame they couldn't test them out by throwing for real, but Abe was confident in his final decision: "Here," he said, handing over his favorite.

Shinooka would then go off and buy another thirty or so more. A pricey spree, but worth it.

"Thanks," she said, smiling. Abe couldn't help notice that she'd been smiling a lot today.

"What's next?"

"That's all of it," she said, turning to look over towards the checkout clerk, where she'd left the rest of their planned purchases... four more right-handed gloves, a lefty glove, a dozen or so tins of glove conditioner, some replacement catcher gear, as well several other sundry items that Shinooka had picked out on her own, since they didn't require his input. As Shinooka started to walk her way over there, Abe followed along.

It would be nice if he had some spare cash to spend for himself; earlier Abe had seen an arm resistance band that Mihashi could really use, which he could keep at his own place for whenever Mihashi was visiting (giving it to him outright would be dangerous because who knew what kind of overzealous things he'd try if he were left unsupervised with exercise tools at home). Now that the idea had occurred to him, Abe probably wouldn't rest until he bought one, so he started thinking about saving up while Shinooka was checking out.

Three weeks, maybe? He could probably have enough of his allowance money set aside by then.

Both he and Shinooka had brought along backpacks, for additional storage space, so once everything was bought the next step was in appropriate weight distribution... as he suspected, Shinooka almost immediately proposed the worst plan possible: even sharing. She tried to argue that her upper body strength could handle it, since she was always hauling around food and drinks for the team, and also attempted to convince him that it would not be fair, otherwise, but Shinooka was missing an essential point, that of her being a girl.

Boys just did not allow girls to overdo it, no matter how capable the girl in question might be. It simply wasn't nice.

Saying that outright was probably not especially tactful, so Abe didn't. Instead he just ignored all of her protests, and loaded himself up on as much as he felt he could carry safely, which was almost everything. "You're making me feel lazy," she complained, but Shinooka worked really hard for the team. She was entitled to a break, and he'd make sure she got one, with or without her approval.

"Let's go," he said, once he was sure that he had everything balanced out.

For a moment, Shinooka seemed almost annoyed, which surprised him. She wasn't the type to become easily annoyed, not like he and Hanai were. He thought about reconsidering his decision to monopolize the carrying duties, guessing that it was maybe some female equality thing he shouldn't mess around with, but before he could seriously do so, she relented. "Very gentlemanly," she murmured.

Ah, so she did get it! That was good. Abe was no good with dealing with modern-minded females.

On their way out the store, Shinooka paused before a display of rollerblades, touching one of them with what even he could tell was some sort of degree of regret. Abe remember that she'd stopped to look at it on their way in, too. "You want to try those out?" he asked, not especially bothered by the idea of delay. He had, after all, wasted a fair amount of time playing around with the bats and gloves.

"No, it's okay." She shook herself, and turned resolutely away.

"I used to rollerblade," Abe said musingly, as they exited the store and joined the masses of shoppers milling about. Lots of kids their own age were there, a phenomenon Abe really didn't get. Who would come to the mall voluntarily, just to hang out? What a total waste of time. "Can't anymore, obviously."

"Yeah," Shinooka said, sympathetic, so Abe knew that she understood what he meant. Baseball ended up forbidding a lot of otherwise fun activities. Fortunately, nothing was more fun than baseball. "I used to, too."

At this point in the conversation, knowing that he'd accidentally touched off a reminiscence cascade, Abe's tendency would normally be to check out mentally (but not in an obvious way, that would be rude). Other people's stories were rarely as interesting as they assumed them to be, and even people he liked a lot tended to be tiresome when recounting their pasts. Even Mihashi. But Shinooka seemed content to leave her memories at that, and so Abe turned to smile at her. Such restraint should always be rewarded.

And so, looking at her appreciatively, with rollerblading on the mind, he was surprised with a hazy recollection of his own. Wasn't Shinooka familiar, and not just from the past year? An image of her in skirts, geared up with shin pads and wrist protectors and a helmet as she sped by him flashed through his mind. It seemed like something he'd seen many times before, without ever especially noting it. Abe felt his smile fade into a puzzled frown, wanting to pin down the thought. "Yeah?" he said, offering up one of his very, very rare prompts.

"It was a lot easier when I lived close to school. I liked it better than biking."

School? Oh wait. Middle school?

Everything clicked into place. "Oh. I remember you. You were the rollerblading girl."

Back in middle school, his classmates used to talk about this one girl who always came to school on rollerblades. There were other people who did it occasionally, but she was someone who did it always, excepting rain or snow. Kind of legendary, actually. More importantly, this meant that Shinooka had gone to his middle school, which explained the niggling sensation of familiarity he'd felt, and the fragments of memories he had. Good; there was nothing worse than a made-up memory.

"Yes," she said, sounding a little surprised, and then... oddly... grateful. "You remember?"

There was no answering that question, since he already had, and besides his thoughts had already jumped far ahead. As a rule he didn't often make note of people's personal names, since he almost never used them, but in middle school the convention had been for everyone to be on a given-name basis. Even if he'd switched over, as he had with Sakaeguchi (who previously had been Yuuto-san to him), he still tried to remember. It was important, to remember. So. "Chiyo?" That had been it, right? "Chiyo-san?"

"Uh..." Unexpectedly, Shinooka started to blush, terribly.

"You can call me Takaya if you want."

"But..." She seemed to be at a complete loss. "The team..."

Ah, yes. The Team. "I see." He could just imagine them all chumming it up on a given-name basis: a horrifying thought. "Never mind. I'll stick with Shinooka."

"And I'll stick with Abe-kun," she said, after a pause. She seemed to be fighting off a grin and her blush as well as some other feelings, which Abe could only sympathize with, since using personal names wasn't his preference either. He'd only offered because that had been the standard, and he'd feel like a jerk if he didn't, but honestly this made him more comfortable.

But thinking about names and comfort... again, Abe jumped ahead, getting in front of the conversation.

"That Haruna..." Abe said, grinding his teeth. Always insisting on using his given name, still, even though he should have taken a hint once Abe had abandoned "Motoki." What an asshole Haruna was.

Some things, Abe had absolutely no problem remembering. Anything having to do with baseball, obviously. All math, almost all science. Most Mihashi minutia. And Haruna. Not a day didn't go by when that asshole didn't cross his mind for some reason or another. Allegedly he and Haruna were getting along better now, and Abe did kind of appreciate how Haruna was trying to change, and how Haruna had taken Mihashi under his wing... but still.

"I know," Shinooka said, soothing. At this point, everyone knew about Haruna. But it was nice how Shinooka immediately followed where he was going with that.

Such a statement re: Haruna said in front of Mihashi would be extremely ill advised, since he'd probably end up side tracked for several minutes while the two of them disentangled Abe's contempt from Mihashi's admiration. Shinooka was one of those rare people Abe could let his guard down around, because she understood him better than most and forgave him easier than anyone.

"Sorry," Abe said. Going off on Haruna was probably just as annoying as people sharing their memories all the time.

At this point, they'd exited the mall, and now were walking to Koshigaya station. Since it was past noon, it wasn't terribly cold out, but it couldn't be more than four degrees, tops. Thinking about Mihashi, Abe looked down. He was still using Mihashi's scarf; Abe wasn't sure if that had been a gift or a loan, but Mihashi had never asked for it back and it was proving to be pretty handy.

Once they made it onto the train, they didn't talk much for the remainder of the trip... Abe found Shinooka a seat and insisted that she sit down in it, and then stood in front of her, holding the overhead rail strap and getting some rest as he set down their bucket of baseballs and the bag he'd stuffed with as much of the heavier equipment as possible. As long as their purchases remained between them, Abe felt they were safe, even though the train was a little crowded with other shoppers who were also leaving the mall.

It took a little less than an hour to get back to the station near the school, which was where they'd met up earlier... they'd only had to make one line change, which wasn't bad at all. From there (after Abe collected his workout kit from a coin locker at the station) they walked over to the bike racks, and loaded up.

Biking with this kind of equipment was never easy. Abe kept his backpack on his back, and slung his kit crossways over his shoulder, which meant that personally he was really pushing it, especially since he'd also loaded up his basket with the bucket of balls. The rest of the purchases went with Shinooka, since they were lighter and wouldn't cause as many problems for her in the basket. It was kind of a struggle to kick off, since he had a lot more mass to mobilize than he usually did, and once he gained a little speed the front tire began to shake.

Abe held on. It didn't take long for them to find a sustainable rhythm. Together they went over small hills, through intersections, avoided the occasional car, turned corner after corner. It was tedious and agonizing, and they had to take a few breaks so he could catch his breath. He was overdoing it, he knew it himself, but the only other alternative would have been to ask Shinooka to do the shopping over multiple trips, or allowing someone flaky like Mizutani to escort her, which would have been disastrous all around.

What was normally a twenty minute trip for Shinooka by bike ended up taking them both a little under forty minutes. Not amazing, but not bad either. Abe was pretty proud of himself for his toughness.

So proud, in fact... Abe gave Shinooka a sly sideways glance. "Wanna go?" he asked, casually.

Might as well round off their club outing with a little race.

Shinooka looked straight ahead. She knew what he meant, and was already assessing the distance from where they were to the club's apartment room. They were at the front gate, and it was a straight shot from there to the club house complex. It wasn't all that far, but was far enough to make for a good race. He still had a little juice in him; _he_ could go, that was for sure.

"To the bike racks," he added. "First one to touch wins."

"It's doable," she said at last. And without any warning she threw herself into whatever her max gear was, shooting forward and with brutal force. Abe didn't wait either, didn't give her any lead time at all... a race wasn't a race unless both parties went all out.

His was not a sports bike, just a city bike, which meant that it was sturdy and heavy and not made for speed-- and there were only three gears, not nearly enough for formal racing. Since the bike was frontloaded with his equipment, that meant he couldn't rock it with hard pedaling without adjusting his own weight to compensate, which was a bit tricky since the front wheel tended to shake alarmingly at higher speeds, even without a bucket of balls to complicate matters. But Abe used to race Shun all the time, and had gotten the timing and motions down just right.

His grin widened. He'd totally pulverize her. She would be eating his wake in a second. Her advantage was in the fact that she wasn't mobilizing nearly as much mass, but who could beat the team's number two, their damned Catcher-san?

Not a measly team manager, that was for sure. (No offense to Shinooka.)

Like that, he beat her.

Just like that.

It was over so quickly, hard to process, but buying a lead hadn't been so tough, since he was a lot more merciless with his bike and his body than she could ever hope to be. At the last moment he made a skidding out stop, which nearly toppled him, and he slapped the nearest bar with one hand, triumphant. Shinooka was there only a moment later, and her stop was a lot more decorous. They looked at each other for a moment, and then they both started to laugh, uproariously, each with a bit of a cough and a wheeze, the combination of exertion and chilled air leaving them both a bit breathless.

That had been so stupid. It had also been so much fun.

Abe clutched at his sides, bent over a little as he laughed, but he had his head tilted up so he could look at Shinooka, whose cheeks were brilliantly flushed. She was a fitness geek after all. That was awesome. Fitness geeks were always his favorite type of people. She was also pretty, really pretty.

It was a mystery that a pretty girl like her didn't have a boyfriend.

"Woo~ !"

The familiar sound of Tajima howling caused both Abe and Shinooka to look up. Tajima was hanging over the rail from the second floor of the club house complex, right outside their clubroom door. He was waving excitedly. Mihashi was standing right next to him, standing a little bit back, not saying anything at all. Once Mihashi noticed Abe looking up, he raised his hand to offer a wimpy little wave.

Once their laughter quieted down, Abe pointed up, addressing Shinooka. "Go ahead. I'll meet you up there." He stood from his bike, and they both engaged their locks. Shinooka hauled her backpack from the basket and walked up to the club room; after getting everything of his own situated, Abe followed her up a minute or so later.

Mihashi was waiting for him alone. Both Tajima and Shinooka had gone inside, apparently, which was understandable since the club house was heated even on the weekends. Abe set everything down outside the door, careful to stack everything neatly.

"A-Abe-kun..."

"Hmm?"

Abe had been about to sit down on the cement, wanting to catch his breath, but he looked up in mid crouch, noting that there was something odd in how Mihashi's voice cracked, something out of the ordinary anyway. Sure enough, Mihashi was looking down at him with that trademarked wavering smile of his, hands clasped together at the waist, fidgeting with his fingers and seeming abashed. In many ways this was normal Mihashi, but the smile was strange, a bit off--

"What's wrong?" Abe added, standing abruptly.

"Nnn..nn...nothing."

Come on, lies? Didn't Mihashi know by now that Abe saw through them all?

Even so, there was no point in getting all pissed off about it. This was one thing Abe knew without a doubt. That didn't mean he didn't sometimes get pissed off anyway, just on principle, but lying signified intimidation, or some other even worse and more irritating emotion, and getting to the bottom of it was always the most important thing. So Abe just clenched his teeth together, paused, and then said, tightly, "Something's wrong."

Context clues were important. Abe watched carefully as Mihashi looked this way and that, eyes darting about, trying to determine where they darted the most. Abe leaned in. He leaned in further. He narrowed his eyes. There.

"Shinooka?" Abe asked, finally. For some reason, Mihashi's eyes kept turning first to the bikes down below, where Shinooka had parked her bike, and then back to the clubhouse door, where Shinooka had currently gone.

The sheer panic that overtook Mihashi confirmed that Abe was dead on.

After Abe took a deep breath in order to calm himself, he quickly opened the clubhouse door, and peeked inside. Shinooka was sitting down at the conference table, in one of the several available folding chairs, while Tajima was sitting on top of the table, presiding over it like some kind of little lord, legs crossed and talking animatedly at Shinooka. Both looked up when Abe opened the door, and he waved without entering. "I need Mihashi for a little bit," he said. "We'll be back."

Tajima was chewing gum, a fact which became obvious when he blew a large bubble, which popped noisily. He stared at Abe for a moment, nonplussed, but then said "Okay."

Shinooka smiled, and nodded, and then looked back up at Tajima, resuming whatever they'd begun discussing.

Good. That was the biggest obstacle cleared. Abe was glad that it was a sunny, windless day... finding somewhere to drag Mihashi where it wasn't going to be cold wouldn't be so hard. Placing one arm firmly around Mihashi's shoulders from behind, Abe ushered Mihashi away down the stairs and around the corner. There was a little nook over on the other side of the main schoolhouse that Abe knew about, and so after a pause he began marching Mihashi across the quad and towards that secluded place. It was a place where their teammates probably wouldn't immediately think to find them, and although there were windows facing out from the school Abe didn't especially care what anyone saw.

The main point was in making sure they wouldn't be overheard, so as to protect whatever weird issue Mihashi was having from going public. There wasn't any bench, so Abe pulled Mihashi all the way back to the wall, having him face out. This way, Abe could watch for intruders.

Mihashi cared what people thought of him, cared way too much in Abe's opinion, but since he did, Abe would honor that and make sure that none of his secrets accidentally got out.

"What's up with Shinooka?" Abe whispered, leaning down to say it quietly into Mihashi's ear, hands on Mihashi's shoulders. He felt all conspiratorial.

... and Mihashi was cringing away from him. Abe felt his heart thump unpleasantly. How could Mihashi still find him intimidating after... after everything? Was he not trying hard enough? Was he not giving Mihashi enough attention? Maybe Abe didn't call him often enough? Should he have spent more time with him over the weekend? Maybe his instructions were too difficult to keep track of-- was he sending an insufficient quantity of text messages? Abe didn't want to think any of these questions, but how could he not, when Mihashi was recoiling from his touch _yet again_?

Abe looked down, and slowly removed his hands from Mihashi's thin frame, letting them fall limply at his sides. And then he looked away. It was hard not to sigh.

But then it seemed like Mihashi was relaxing, he could feeling it happening without really seeing it... Mihashi's breathing slowed, and the tiny rustling sounds of movement stopped. Abe felt Mihashi's fingertips cautiously touch the back of his hand, just a brief sliding motion across the skin, and it felt like an apology and, oddly, reassurance...? Abe turned back to look at Mihashi, whose eyes were wide.

"Y-you... I saw. With h-her... Abe-kun... together..."

Huh? Abe attempted to unpack that. He stepped away from Mihashi and slouched against the wall next to him instead, interlacing his fingers behind his head as he thought about it. Surely this was not a threatening pose. "We came together," he said. "Is that it?" He was still being quiet, however, giving Mihashi a down and sideways glance.

"Y-yes."

"And that is a problem, why?"

"S-she... I... with you... but... I... she..."

Completely incomprehensible. "I see." Abe took a deep breath. "How about we do it this way. One thing at a time. First, is there something wrong with me?"

"N-no..."

"Then, is there something wrong with Shinooka?"

Mihashi shook his head vigorously. A strong no.

"But there's an issue because we came together?"

The answer had to be yes, considering how Mihashi paused and sweated and looked generally miserable.

Oh! Could it have been... "Were you worried because we were racing?" Maybe Mihashi thought he'd get hurt again.

"N-no..."

It was like that game, twenty questions. "You wanted to play along, too?"

The look of horror in Mihashi's eyes said "no." However, before Abe could lead with some more fruitless questioning, Mihashi seemed ready to make another stab at communicating. "But you... she... do you... together... she... I like... But if she... liked... then you... Then I," Mihashi swallowed. "B-but. Her? Do you--"

"What?" Abe said, loudly, standing up straight. What? Did Mihashi actually just imply...? Remembering they were at school, Abe leaned back in to whisper. "You think she _likes_ me?"

"Uh..."

"No?"

Mihashi was shaking his head again, so it must be a no. Good, the idea was simply ridiculous.

So what was it?

Wait.

"Oooooh, I see." This was great. Abe had it. No doubt about it. There was a note of glee in his voice as he leaned even closer. "_You_ like her."

"But... no..."

"No need to lie!" Abe said softly, jubilant. So Mihashi had a crush on Shinooka, did he? Perhaps it bothered him to see Abe with her? "Don't worry, I won't go after her."

When would he even find the time? Managing Mihashi's life was already a full time job. He couldn't even begin to grasp the complications of managing a girl's life on top of that.

"Really?" Mihashi perked up, but then almost immediately huddled back down. "B-but--"

It was a total epiphany. This must be what it felt like for Tajima whenever he translated Mihashi's trademarked nonsense into normal human speech. The reason Mihashi was so upset was because he didn't want Abe to find out about his illicit love. He must have been worried that Abe would get jealous, which explained all the cringing and increasingly fractured speech, which was remarkable even for him.

Mihashi wasn't really scared of him. It was all just a misunderstanding.

That was it. Had to be. "It's okay. Don't worry. It doesn't bother me if you like girls."

In fact, Abe already knew Mihashi liked girls. His porn habits testified to that.

He couldn't help but chuckle a little, feeling a bit sinister. It was a silly thing for Mihashi to get worked up over, but by now Abe was used to problems like this. "So. Shinooka."

Mihashi was blinking up at him, as if he didn't understand. That was okay. Abe could explain, in great detail.

"Interest in girls in a completely natural thing," Abe whispered, right into Mihashi's ear. "Frankly, it would be weird if you didn't have feelings that way from time to time. It's all right if you like her, I'm not going to mind. Well..." Abe paused. Maybe he would mind a little. "Just tell me first before you decide to make any moves, I would need to help walk you through what steps you'd need to take, in order to achieve ultimate success."

As long as you remember where your priorities are, and stay with me, I'll take care of you, Abe thought to himself. Mihashi was nodding thoughtfully.

Abe continued. "We'd have to try out any move you want to make, obviously. Make sure theory syncs up with practice. But don't get serious about her, okay? Hmm..." Abe paused, and then looked down. A thought just occurred to him. "Wait, that's no good. You can't go after her if you're not serious, that's not fair to her. Maybe there's another girl who...?" Abe sighed. "No, you can't do that to any girl, I guess." This was really unfortunate. But the battery came first. It would always come first. "I'm sorry... well, I'll make it up to you. I'm sure I don't rate the way Shinooka does, but--"

Mihashi cut him off. "You-- you rate just fine..." he said, voice low.

"Then there's no problem," Abe said, quite proud of himself for getting to the bottom of this with a minimum of fuss.

Yes. Best to forgo girls altogether, for the both of them. Mihashi had the skills to make it all the way to pro. Too many pros frittered away their talent chasing skirts, in Abe's considered opinion, so it was good to nip that thing in the bud now, before he developed a taste for it.

Maybe once Mihashi retired then it would be okay, but that was a long way off in the future, since Abe intended to keep Mihashi at top condition for as long as humanly possible.

Apparently Mihashi agreed, since he was smiling up at him, with that sincere and trusting smile that Abe liked so much. Abe wished they weren't at school, or at least that they were someplace more secure... he was kind of turned on right now, wasn't he? And then Mihashi reached up, grabbing the edges of the scarf he'd loaned-- or given?-- Abe, adjusting it slightly. And then Abe knew for sure that he was turned on.

The most convenient thing would be for Abe to take over permanently as Mihashi's official boyfriend. It would cause some problems at school, but according to Abe's strict moral code there wasn't anything ethically problematic in what they were doing, and as long as his own conscience was clear than he didn't really care what people thought. The only people whose opinions maybe would matter were his parents and his brother, but his family was pretty close and his parents had always indulged him. And they were pretty open-minded anyway: it was likely they wouldn't even care.

The bigger issue was how Mihashi would deal with it.

Argh. That was what annoyed him when people like that Shimizu guy made a big deal of what was going on with him and Mihashi. If only he hadn't brought Mihashi into it, then Abe wouldn't have needed to be that cruel.

But Mihashi was like Shimizu in one respect. He cared what people thought of him. Fuck, that was why Abe's counteroffensive had worked so well... throwing Shimizu's fears back in his face, he was able to watch in contempt as the idiot squirmed. For Abe, the opinions of others were mere background noise, only important to the degree they interfered with his ability to live his life the way he wanted. But Mihashi cared. Mihashi was like most people. Appearances were important to him. And so, to whatever degree he had to, Abe would protect that.

Abe swallowed, hard. Fooling around with Mihashi was fun. Sometimes, heretically, he entertained the notion that it was equally as much fun as baseball itself.

It made him so happy that Mihashi trusted him. And Mihashi had never, ever let him down. Despite wanting to kiss him right now, wanting to put his hands down Mihashi's pants and up his shirt, wanting to touch his bare skin everywhere... he refrained. They were at school. There were rules.

Mihashi was breathing, hard. He looked to be just about as turned on as Abe did. He also looked completely terrified.

It was okay. So long as Mihashi wasn't terrified of _him_.

"Let's pick this up later," Abe said, daring much as he pressed his lips to Mihashi's ear to speak. "Time to go back."

_As long as you remember where your priorities are, and stay with me, I'll take care of you._

.+.

"All better?" Tajima asked of Mihashi, once they'd rejoined the group.

Izumi and Oki were there now, having arrived while Abe had been off with Mihashi. Either they or Tajima had moved all the new equipment into the room, as well as Abe's workout kit. That was nice.

Having spied Mihashi, Tajima jumped off the table to steal him away, pulling Mihashi down to the far end of the table and sitting down next to him, in an actual chair for a change. Mihashi was prompt in answering Tajima's question, saying "yes, everything's worked out, w-we're fine," in that way of his which made Abe feel a little sick to his stomach, because when Mihashi was talking to just about everyone _besides_ him, he made a lot more sense. It was hardly fair.

After hearing the answer, Tajima blew a bubble in Abe's direction, giving him a thumb's up as the bubblegum popped across his entire lower face.

Abe stood apart, pausing for a moment just inside the door. "That's interesting," he said.

"Come over here." Izumi was looking at Abe with some exasperation, waving for him to come and sit next to him, opposite Shinooka. "You got your private conference time, now hang out with everyone else."

Oki just smiled at Abe. He was sitting off by himself near the television and video deck, and it looked like he was going through old tapes figuring out what to discard and what to keep. Oki was always a quiet one, but maybe because of that, Abe got along with him just fine. Before going to sit next to Izumi, Abe circled around first to pass by Oki, gently tapping his fist against the top of Oki's left shoulder, twice.

"So what are we all talking about?" Abe asked, looking around at everyone as he sat, before his gaze settled on Shinooka. Abe tilted his head to one side as he looked her over-- he couldn't help but see her in a new light.

So Mihashi liked her.

How did he feel about that? Was he really okay with it?

"You," Izumi said, blandly.

Abe halted his Shinooka scan and turned to look at Izumi, who was giving him a suspiciously leading smile. "Do tell."

"According to Mizutani," Izumi began, and already Abe was groaning, "you have made yet another enemy."

"Since when do I have enemies?" Abe asked, and keeping his voice in the controlled range was a bit difficult.

"Abe-kun has enemies?" Mihashi jumped in, very anxiously, and Abe considered taking Izumi out with one quick noogie... except somehow those never worked on him, so there was no point.

But now Hanai was strolling in, and he put his workout kit down next to Abe's, and everyone else's. "Oh, it's just some dumb classroom thing, Mihashi," he said, without preamble or hellos to anyone. He, like Abe, paused just inside the door. "Tajima, stop picking your nose."

"But I got gum in it!" For Tajima, sometimes it seemed like personal delicacy items such as tissues and bathrooms simply did not exist.

Although watching Tajima pick his nose while Hanai fumed at him impotently would surely be fun, Abe was locked in a staring contest of wills with Izumi, who was simply smirking at him, but with this aggravated undertone to the smirk which suggested that Izumi was, yet once more, fed up with him in some esoteric and bullshit way.

Abe countered with a twitching, tortured smile of long-suffering repression. "Did _Mizutani_ also tell you about his secret plot against you?"

"Secret plot?" Ah, nice. Izumi began blinking, distracted.

"He's been undergoing special training every day at lunch."

At this point, Shinooka broke into a laugh, and all eyes turned to her. "Sorry, sorry," she said, turning her head away to the side and holding on tightly to the edge of her chair trying to hold back her mirth and failing miserably. "Er..." She looked at Abe, and seemed both shy and sly. "Is _that_ what that was all about?"

Good. Shinooka was helping him out (although probably inadvertently). Abe definitely wanted the conversation to fly far, far away from anything that would cause Mihashi to have a breakdown. He'd already met his breakdown quota for the day.

"Verified from his own mouth," Abe replied, smiling at Shinooka. Well, when she was pretty and helpful like that, no wonder Mihashi liked her. "'I want to show it to Izumi', he said."

"Abe, you're one nasty piece of work," Hanai said, but he was laughing too.

"What?" Izumi was looking at him, Shinooka, and Hanai in turn, going back and forth, buzzing with curiosity and, likely, something else. "What?"

"That's for us to know and for you to fear.... er, find out," Abe said.

Sakaeguchi and Suyama were arriving now, coming through the door together and with twin expressions of mellow happiness. How they always were so mellow and so happy, Abe really had no idea. Tajima abandoned rooting around in his nose for the last scraps of bubblegum, and flew to give both Sakaeguchi and Suyama a dual-armed headlock sort of hug... thing. Taking advantage of this distraction, Abe looked over at Mihashi, trying to be subtle about it. Mihashi was staring at him openly, and his worry couldn't have been more obvious.

Damn. He was still hung up on the enemies thing. "Later," Abe mouthed.

After a moment, Mihashi nodded.

"Hi everyone," Sakaeguchi was saying. "We're not late?"

Oki looked down at his watch. "No, there's a few more minutes." Oki was one of the few people left in the universe who still wore a watch.

Tajima was whispering something in Suyama's ear. Their shortstop blushed hard, and said "no."

Before anyone could inquire as to what sorts of crap Tajima was teasing Suyama with, Hanai coughed loudly. "Show of hands," he said, looking around, hands on hips. "Who all here got hugs?"

From Tajima, presumably. Curious as to the answer, Abe looked around. First was Izumi, who was pretending to appear bored as he raised one hand nonchalantly (he had to still be churning internally over the Mizutani mystery, but was too much of a cool customer to make a big deal of it after the conversation had moved on). Then there was Oki, cheerfully admitting his status as a victim of Tajima Assault, followed by Mihashi, who probably had received his hug before Abe had shown up. Sakaeguchi and Suyama looked at each other, as if wondering whether they'd been included in the questioning since they'd just been hugged, but presently they raised their hands too. Even Shinooka-- Shinooka!-- was sheepishly raising one hand.

So, only Hanai and Abe had been spared.

Since Hanai was now looking at him as if he'd found an ally for his disgruntlement and righteous indignation, Abe shrugged. "I went off with Mihashi as soon as I got here."

Hanai wasn't getting an ally out of him. Not for something as stupid as this.

"Oh, is Hanai feeling left out?" Tajima asked, brightly. He then hurtled himself at Hanai, knocking him back against the door.

"That's not what I meant!" Hanai protested.

Abe and Izumi exchanged a look. That was totally what he meant.

And it really didn't matter, because Tajima was making kissy faces at Hanai and trying to get at him, and now Hanai was having to fend him off, saying "stop!" and "come on!" and "don't make me hurt you" and, lest anyone get the wrong idea, "_stop_."

Everyone turned away from the spectacle. "So, Mizutani is plotting against me?" Izumi asked, calmly.

Abe nodded, solemnly.

Oh, Mizutani was in for it. Served him right, for telling Izumi about Shimizu.

Now that he and Izumi had silently worked out a truce, Abe could focus on more important matters. Nishihiro arrived, which gave Hanai a reprieve since Tajima had a new victim to claim. It was interesting how Tajima avoided Hanai unless and until he was called out on it, but Abe wasn't going to delve into the interpersonal dynamics between cleanup hitter and captain. No. The important thing now was in processing this unexpected development re: Mihashi's crush.

Abe went back to his furtive reassessment of Shinooka. A crush was not the same thing as random lust, and couldn't be so conveniently swept aside. If Mihashi went after her anyway without Abe's advice, he'd probably only get shot down anyway... right? So it probably didn't matter.

But it bothered him. It bothered him. Maybe it was wrong to stand in the way. Perhaps he could come up with some plan which would allow Mihashi to go after Shinooka, and be serious about it, without it interfering with Mihashi's baseball life, or the closeness of their battery. Abe would have to give this more thought. He bit his thumb lightly, absorbed in his internal calculations.

He would have to proceed very, very cautiously.

"Hiiiii!" Mizutani burst through the doors, smiling ridiculously and waving like a loon.

"You're late," Abe said.

"You're last," said Izumi.

"Ten extra laps around the track," Hanai said, crossing his arms.

"Noooo!" Mizutani turned around instantly, in order to effect his escape. Too bad for him, Tajima was right there, ready and willing to pounce. In the blink of an eye, Mizutani was on the floor, pinned down by an overly affectionate Tajima, and Izumi was already getting up, fingers poised for attack.

Ah well, he could think about this all later.

For now, there was practice.


	4. his best defense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's the difference between taking a level in badass and taking a level in crazy? Ask Abe.

  
_his best defense_   


"Oh my. Hello, loser."

"Excuse me?"

"Stupid on top of retarded, are we? Awesome. Let's try this again: hello, _loser_."

In the midst of after-school cleanup duty, following that unpromising opening exchange Abe was already looking up from where he'd been sweeping, staring directly into the eyes of... Shimizu.

Really? Shimizu, the Mihashi-insulting asshole? Abe just about sighed right then and there. This was going to be tedious, he knew it straight off.

There had been a note of surprise in Shimizu's voice upon discovering Abe present and alone in the classroom, but already that jerk was smiling as if he'd stumbled right into a field of serendipity and was getting off on the fragrance of all that intoxicating good fortune.

Shimizu was being... amazingly cheeky. The boy seemed to be without fear, and so Abe gave him a good once-over, wondering how this person felt so confident that he thought it was safe to be so rude. Shimizu was wearing athletic gear, and had a bag over his shoulder... he had shin guards, and black shorts, and a pair of cleats was tied by the laces to the bag, so it looked to be a soccer uniform? Height was average, build the same. Probably strong, considering the definition of the other boy's calves. So: an equal? At the very least, a wannabe equal.

After finishing his brief initial assessment, Abe went back to looking at Shimizu eye-to-eye, although now he decided to lean up against the nearest desk, pausing in his work. There was no point in continuing cleaning while this jerk was hanging out, since he'd probably try something juvenile like spit all over the newly cleaned floor. Heck, he might do that shit anyway, but best not to give him any bright ideas. "Can I help you?" he asked, finally.

But Shimizu merely grinned, pulling out his cell and thumbing out some text.

Abe could really live without this. He was already going to be late getting home, because he had gone to team workout before tackling his classroom responsibilities, and dinner was going to be cold even without this annoying detour. Running fingers through his hair, Abe looked away, out the window. Perhaps he could expedite things. "The answer is still no," Abe said, with a small and undoubtedly irritating smile.

As expected, that got a response. Shimizu stopped grinning and flipped his phone closed with a snap. "No, no," he said, and it appeared that without the classroom as audience, the gay-themed hazing wasn't about to faze him. "I know, you've already got your idiot boyfriend, eating up all your... attention."

"Let's leave Mihashi out of this," Abe said, calm. It worked both ways, the lack of an audience... if Shimizu thought Abe's buttons were so easily pushed, he had another thing coming. "What's your problem anyway, for real?"

"For real?" Shimizu held up his hands and shrugged, pretending to be mystified. "Besides how lazy you are? Besides how much you don't give a shit about anyone besides your baseball buddies and your precious Mihashi? Besides how loud you get, and how much you run your mouth? Besides how you order Shinooka-san around like she's your personal slave? Besides how you have to hide behind Hanai and even that dorkwad Mizutani in order to get along with anyone?" Shimizu shook his head slowly. "You know, I don't know. I can't think of a single thing."

Hmm. That was a fairly comprehensive litany. "Lazy?"

"Ha!" Shimizu made himself comfortable, sitting on top of a desk and crossing his legs. "You don't even remember. Typical." He pointed at Abe. "Summer. Sports day. Class sports-- soccer. I of course expected you to be useless, but unlike Hanai, you didn't even _try_."

What a stupid and stupidly specific complaint. Had this asshole been nursing a grudge all year? An entire year, over one meaningless physical fitness challenge? Abe remembered that day well, since losing had enabled he and Hanai to be able to go over with Izumi and Tajima to see Mihashi. That had been the day right after the game with Tosei. "We were in the middle of the Summer Koshien tournament," Abe explained, as patiently as he possibly could. "You remember, our team made it to Top Sixteen for Saitama?"

"How could anyone forget. _You wouldn't shut up about it_."

So according to this jerk, Abe was a shirker, a big mouth, a bully, and a coward? It would be laughable if it weren't so massively obnoxious and untrue. Now that Abe knew how little substance there was to these complaints, he certainly wasn't going to waste any time trying to shoot them down. People tended to believe what they wanted to believe, and if this guy was so bitter it wasn't like he was going to be open to a re-education campaign or anything. And like hell would Abe apologize: he'd already given this person the one and only apology he would make.

He certainly didn't have to stay and listen to any more of this crap. Deciding that the classroom was clean enough, and that anything that happened after he left would not be his responsibility, Abe stood and walked to the back of the room, opening the supply closet in the back and returning the broom and dustpan to their proper place.

"Oh, yes. Big bad Catcher-san, planning on running away so you can go off and cry in the arms of your loser boyfriend?" Shimizu, too, stood, and instead of following Abe, he walked closer to the front of the room... apparently to block the door.

Abe raised an eyebrow, pausing after closing the closet door. He had been about to walk out the room, but Shimizu's movements seemed to indicate that he wasn't getting out of here without a fight.

Well, that was fine too.

Planting his feet firmly on the floor, finding a stable stance, Abe clenched and released his fists once and then took a deep breath. He then smiled, showing off his most crooked shit-eating grin. That was enough; it was against his morals to punch anyone first, for any reason, but fighting for self defense was acceptable. Make the other guy throw the first punch, that was the advice his father had given him a long, long time ago. He, like his father, was basically a pacifist, but that didn't mean he would ever allow himself to be a doormat. Abe knew his smile was provocative; it was intended to be.

But just then, the door opened, and three other boys walked in... boys Abe didn't recognize. Shimizu turned and greeted them happily, triumphantly, high fives and all, and they responded in kind.

Ahhh.

Shimizu had set him up.

What was this, then? It wasn't bullying, because bullying implied an attack on the weak, and Abe was hardly weak. Vengeance, maybe-- but nothing in the list of complaints Shimizu had given felt especially personal. Mostly it felt like a power play... crushing a rival, for no other reason than to obtain dominance. Abe had never considered himself especially powerful in terms of their classroom's dynamics, but the evidence was before him, and it seemed that Abe held more sway than he'd thought.

"All right, loser." Shimizu was walking towards him now, one of the friends standing back to remain near the door, with the other two approaching just behind their coalition leader. "Now we can talk, _for real_." Shimizu punched one hand against the other, looking hungry and filled with anticipation.

Abe didn't drop his grin. He didn't falter, didn't even feel tempted. Shimizu was a walking cliche. "Hilarious," he said. It wasn't yet time to make any move. _Wait for it..._

"Looks like he doesn't get it," said one of the friends, as if making a clinical notation.

"Well, if he was any less of a moron, we wouldn't need to be doing something like this," said the other.

"True." Shimizu stepped in front of Abe, only a few feet off. "It's sad, really."

Abe crossed his arms. _Wait for it..._

"Last chance," Shimizu said, coming so close that Abe could feel the other boy's breath on his face. "Are you going to apologize, or are you constitutionally incapable?"

Apologize, so that Shimizu could advertise around the class and school that Abe was a coward who backed down under pressure? Not damn likely. Abe didn't move, didn't change his smile one bit, didn't blink.

_Wait..._

After a moment, Shimizu nodded, mostly to himself.

And then he belted Abe in the face, using a strong right hook.

_There._

One thing could be said in Shimizu's favor, he didn't underestimate Abe. As soon as the fist went flying, the two friends grabbed Abe's arms, preventing him from falling, but also preventing him from escape, or easy retaliation. It was hard to relax under these circumstances, but Abe did his best, knowing that to tense up was to court injury... his head lashed back, and Abe felt a sharp strain in his neck. Normal response would be to struggle, but struggling would just make these assholes' jobs easier. So he went limp instead, using his opponents' strength against them to squirm out of the grip, and avoid another hit to the face.

Sliding down, Abe spun, using his newly freed arms to grab one of the boys by the legs, grappling him to the ground. This meant that the other two were right down there with him, piling on as if that would buy them any advantage-- stupid. In a pile up, the major advantage of numbers was lost, and it wasn't all that especially hard to roll out of the way before he could be pinned down. Jumping to a standing crouch, Abe considering his next move.

He knew he was going to lose. That was pre-determined. The question was, how? He intended to lose at a steep price for his attackers, while simultaneously sustaining as little permanent damage to his body as possible. Scrapes were nothing. Bruises were fine. All he needed to do was avoid broken bones, or strained ligaments.

First, buy some space. He danced back further, and then moved up one of the aisles, knocking over one of the desks as he did.. Shimizu, too hasty in pursuit, tripped right over them.

The other boy at the front of the class was wavering, Abe could see it as he spared a glance that way... that guy was going to abandon his guard duties any second now in favor of a clutch play, sandwiching him in. Abe wouldn't have a lot of time to establish position, so he dashed to the front of the class while the other boys came following up separate aisles (Shimizu struggling to stand), and in the precious seconds he had before the fourth player formally entered the fray, Abe lunged for the teacher's desk, wanting to get behind it, to grab the chair, to use it as a tool of defense by swinging it around.

This next step would have been just grand, it would have worked beautifully... if Abe hadn't tripped up, nearly falling flat on his face against the cold, unforgiving floor.

It was the worst possible scenario. There was no time to get up, even though he tried, pushing up with all his might. Before he could make it up even a few inches he was slammed back down, hard, feet coming down on his back, from one, maybe two of the boys at once.

After that, he didn't remember much else.

.+.

As with the end of the fight, the journey home also remained a blur.

He'd never blacked out, because they never had kicked him in the head, apparently content to go at his ribs and sides instead. Insults were hurled, and there was laughing, and at least one of them took a picture with a camera phone, which was just great. The remainder of the assault couldn't have lasted more than a few minutes, but it had felt like it lasted a lot longer, and after they finally became bored and left Abe to his misery, he'd laid with his cheek pressed against the cold, hard, and unforgiving floor for some time.

It was true, then. He still hated, and feared, pain.

When he'd finally struggled to sit up, Abe went first for his phone, wanting the time, wanting the sense of human connection it could give him, even though he couldn't for a moment imagine calling anyone while in this state. But when he'd pulled it from his pocket, the glass was cracked, and it wouldn't turn on.

After staring at it for a while, Abe had thrown the phone as hard as he could against the nearest wall.

No phone. Somehow, the loss of his phone seemed the worst part of it all.

Miraculously, or maybe not, Abe truly didn't seem to have any permanent injury. Lots of contusions, he hurt all over, but no broken bones. Nothing to keep him from playing baseball, which probably had been intentional on the part of Shimizu and his friends. They obviously had no problems dealing out humiliation and punishment, but like most petty schoolboy thugs, they drew the line at anything truly criminal, like reportable assault.

Thank the gods for small favors; although, to tell the truth, Abe wasn't much in a mood to thank anyone as he slowly, painfully walked himself out the school and to his bike, which he'd been able to ride, slowly, painfully, all the way home.

Home.

Actually, Abe corrected himself.

Coming home, like this? _That_ was the worst part.

His lips were shaking as he opened the door, so he bit down, clamping down on his jaw as hard as he could. He hated this. Abe removed his shoes, mechanically. He really hated it.

"Taka? Is that you?"

His mom, calling from the kitchen. Abe couldn't answer. He didn't want to open his mouth.

"Taka?" There was a curious edge to his mom's voice, but no worry. The fact that there was no worry kind of hurt. She never worried for him.

She should never _have_ to worry for him.

This was something he had to face, like a man. He couldn't just sit there and wait for her to find him. Abe stood up, and he was shaking a little harder now. His body felt weirdly numb through the throbbing pain, numb at the edges, over the contours, the thin boundary between him and the world. His heart was racing. How could he speak? What could he even say? Using every last scrap of strength, Abe walked himself into the kitchen, awaiting inspection... awaiting scrutiny.

Oh, how he hated this.

"Taka... oh. Oh."

He couldn't stop the quivering of his lips. He couldn't. He just couldn't.

"My baby... oh no..."

And there she was, and he hated it. He breathed through his nose, blinking back tears. He hated it. His mom reached up, placing her hands on the sides of his head, drawing him down, and he hated it.

Why was he crying? He should never have to cry in front of her. Abe couldn't stop her from pulling his face to her shoulder, and he couldn't stop himself from leaning in, and against all his will, he couldn't stop the first sob that came.

He couldn't stop any of them, in the end.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, brokenly. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

How could he do this to her?

How could he do this, and call himself a man?

"Shh..."

He couldn't.

His mom was holding him tight, pulling him close, and she was shaking now too. "Shun. Shun, come here." His mom raised her voice, sharply. "Now."

Why? Why did Shun need to see this too? Why?

Abe heard the rough intake of breath from his brother across the room, after he entered. "Wh-- "

And now his brother was scared too. Scared for him. "Shun, call your father. Have him come home."

This was the most horrible he'd felt in his entire life.

.+.

Later.

Neither of his parents asked him what had happened. Abe could tell they wanted to, but he could also tell they were holding back, not wanting to say anything to make him think they doubted him. And even worse than anything else, neither of them _did_. The didn't doubt him at all. He had their faith, all of it.

And he'd let them down.

In his bedroom now, locked away in the darkness, Abe held an ice pack over his left eye.

He already had a black eye, there was no helping it since it had taken him so long to get home. His mom had fussed over him, giving him an ice pack as soon as she was able to get him to sit down, finally, after his crying had finally stopped-- but by then it was simply too late. Shun had made his call, and then sat down opposite him, and cried too, which kind of bordered on ridiculous except it made Abe feel even more shitty than ever. And when his dad finally made it home, Abe got his manly hug, and A Talk.

The talk had been painful, in how non-judgmental it was. Abe had pretended to listen, but he couldn't, really, since hearing it would... hearing it would...

Abe pressed the ice pack tighter against his face. Shit.

His heart was still racing. It felt like it would never stop. Abe had to do something. He had to do something, or he'd go crazy.

Since he was sitting down at his desk in the darkness, Abe reached out and turned on the computer monitor, finding the on-button by feel. It flickered to life.

He had to do something.

Shimizu.

Yes. He could do that.

Taking a deep breath, Abe sought to calm himself. In a pinch, he was best advised to return to fundamentals. Research-- information. He needed it.

Unlike most of his friends, he'd never seen the point of setting up a Mixi account, since social networking had never been his thing. It wasn't easy to get one, anyway, since people needed to be invited, and in theory they needed to be adults too, although as far as he could tell this didn't stop your average high school socialite. But Abe was well aware of the website, because Mizutani was always gabbing about the stupid stuff he was doing online. Mizutani had an account. And Mizutani would be his in, since Abe knew that Mizutani used the same password everywhere he went, like a total moron.

Abe took another deep breath. He found Mizutani's profile, and logged in: I-Z-U-M-I.

Normally he wouldn't dream of hacking anyone's account, it just wasn't especially ethical. But in the case of Mizutani, Abe was pretty sure that his friend wouldn't mind, and there wasn't anything terrible that he planned to do with it. Mizutani was the type to blindly friend everyone he knew, and the probability was high that he had everyone from their class mutually friended-- those who had accounts, anyway. All Abe wanted was Shimizu's profile, and access to his public blog postings. Nothing nefarious.

Most people assumed that information gathering was an occult skill, something that required specialized hacking abilities. Abe knew that most people were mistaken in this regard.

As expected, there was Shimizu, Shimizu Koichi, his smug face popping out from the list of profile pictures of Mizutani's "friends." Abe clicked, scanning the pertinent data. Everything was pertinent, from the things Abe already knew (Shimizu Koichi listing Nishiura as his high school's name, for example), to little things Abe normally just didn't care to know (such as his favorite band-- T.M. Revolution, _really_?) . He looked to see who Shimizu Koichi listed as friends, separating out those who were mutually friended from those who weren't.

Ah, he should probably be taking notes. Abe turned on his desk lamp, and pulled out a pad of paper and a pen.

Abe then went through, and read each and every one of Shimizu Koichi's blog posts, going back three years to when he'd set up the account. There was nothing in these posts to hint at Shimizu Koichi's inexplicable hatred of him, but that made sense, since documenting that kind of thing for people to read would be amazingly stupid, and Abe suspected that Shimizu Koichi was nothing of the sort. Abe made note of the things Shimizu Koichi did see fit to mention, however: Abe took down information about the grades he reported for his tests, making note of the blog posts where Shimizu Koichi discussed all the different schools he intended to apply to, and charted out each mention of every important fact along a timeline, which he was building.

It wasn't like Abe had any aspirations to find a goldmine of blackmail material. That sort of thing just never happened, except in stories. He knew that it wasn't likely that he'd be able to piece together Shimizu Koichi's porn interests, or find out some secret otaku alter-ego outlining Shimizu Koichi's probable overwhelming love of all things Gundam (considering the musical influences, anyway). Since Abe knew that Shimizu Koichi was a sports person, it wasn't hard ginning up a basic profile, as well as knowing what sorts of things he shouldn't bother looking for. Sports people for the most part tended to avoid the dark underbelly of the internet, not getting deeply involved in questionable activities such as secretly sharing girls' panty shots, or hanging out in places where their politics would be intimately discussed.

This was not to suggest that sports people couldn't be perverts (hello, Tajima) or close-minded ideologues. It simply meant that they tended to prefer to mouth off about that stuff IRL, without using the internet as a crutch.

Profiling had always been one of Abe's special skills. He knew the two basic rules, two rules which most people just didn't want to believe were true. One was that all secrets are obvious, if you know how to look. The other was that most people's secret truths were ultimately mundane, of interest only to themselves, and the only reason that their secrets ended up hurting them was because they would go to any length to hide them. The cover-up was always worse than the crime.

Well. Almost always.

Once upon a time, in the days before Haruna, Abe used to pay attention to these details in regards to the people he knew personally. But his interest was always unwelcome, rebuffed.

That was when he'd learned the third rule of people. Everyone wanted to control their image, was under the delusion that this was something in their power to control.

But the fact was, this was only ever true for people who were not particularly concerned with hiding things.

From Mixi, Abe went directly to Google.

Abe stayed up for most of the night, taking notes.

.+.

The next day, Abe purposefully stayed home from the morning session of school. He wanted to lull Shimizu Koichi into a sense of complacency, even triumph... he wanted Shimizu Koichi to believe that he'd crushed Abe's spirit, humiliated him so thoroughly that he couldn't bear to be seen.

He was a little worried, because without a working phone there was no way to contact Mihashi, the way he normally did every day... it wasn't like he'd ever bothered to memorize Mihashi's phone number, and besides, calling him instead of sending a text would have tipped Mihashi off that something was wrong. Abe simply had to accept that Mihashi would be worried, would have checked with either Hanai or Mizutani, would have found out that Abe was absent from school.

It was another thing he'd need to make up to Mihashi.

Timing his arrival for lunchtime, when the homeroom teacher would be out of the classroom, Abe strode through the halls, projecting an air of casual menace as he made a precise beeline for his prey. Every time someone looked at his face, looking at his black eye, Abe stared right back at them, and it wasn't a look anyone could withstand for long... crowds parted for him, people cringed when he glared. Instead of his usual workout kit, he carried a smaller bag over his shoulder, one he'd borrowed from Shun (without Shun's knowing it), in which he'd collected his tools of war.

It was important to make a spectacle of his arrival, without seeming affected by what people saw, or thought.

This wasn't hard to do, since right now he really didn't care what anyone saw, or thought.

He'd even seen Nishihiro along the way, and Nishihiro hadn't said one word upon seeing him... hell, Nishihiro had fled, which was unfortunate since Abe had nothing but kind feelings towards him, but fixing that sort of misunderstanding wasn't his priority at the moment, and so Abe didn't spare a second glance for his friend who ran away.

Class 7 was alight with activity upon his arrival, just the normal rambunctious behavior of teens at school, since word of his coming hadn't any time to precede him. The usual boys who stood guard at the door took one look at Abe coming and stepped aside, and it didn't take long for the room to grow still as he entered.

The quiet served his purposes nicely.

There had been a smile on Shimizu Koichi's face the moment Abe's eyes turned towards him, but the smile was dropped almost as quickly as it had formed.

For a moment, Abe paused. Mihashi would not like what he was about to do.

Hell, no one would. But Mihashi's opinion was the one that mattered most, and at the last moment, Abe almost changed his mind.

It wasn't enough, though. Some things were more important, even than his feelings.

"Shimizu Koichi." Abe addressed his adversary warmly, as if touched, or moved, to find him here, waiting.

Wary, Shimizu Koichi didn't say a word, and didn't move at all from where he had been sitting next to some friends, at his desk.

Abe repeated himself. "Shimizu Koichi." And he reached down into his bag, and pulled out his first instrument of destruction, a manila envelope which contained five pages of single-spaced type, outlining each conclusion Abe had drawn from the data he'd collected, along with the associated proofs. As he'd expected, there had been no great revelations, but putting together the smaller secrets had been a quite simple task. The most pertinent conclusion was that Shimizu Koichi was in love with Shinooka Chiya, a detail almost laughable in its ordinariness, in its absolute, pedestrian mundanity.

In fact. The previous night, or rather earlier that morning, around three, once Abe had learned (or rather, realized) this truth, he couldn't resist breaking into a laugh.

Because he, himself? Abe Takaya? Had no interest in girls, and never had.

Gently, Abe placed the manila folder down on the desk in front of Shimizu Koichi. "For you," he said.

"What...?"

Puzzled, clearly a bit annoyed but also apprehensive, Shimizu Koichi looked down at the gift he'd been given, placing a hand on top of it, looking to open it right away.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Abe said. "Not where people can see."

It wouldn't do for Shimizu to learn too quickly all that Abe did, and did not, know of him. Abe was certain that Shimizu, like almost everyone, had secrets beyond those he'd been able to unearth, darker secrets that no one probably would ever know. It wouldn't do for Shimizu to learn yet that Abe didn't know those secrets either. Anticipation of the unknown was always worse than anything real.

Well. Almost always.

And now Shimizu was glaring up at him, outrage and memory of his previous night's triumph taking over his apprehension. Before the outrage could find root in words, Abe reached into his bag, and took out his second instrument of destruction.

"Here, let me help you."

His favorite part of the plan involved power tools. Before leaving home earlier, Abe went into his father's garage workshop, and collected the things he needed. His dad was a builder-slash-architect, so had tons of stuff along these lines, but all he really needed was what he took out: a battery-operated staple gun, and a fresh line of industrial-strength staples, already loaded. Perfect for pinning things down.

"Abe--" It was Hanai, from somewhere off in the distance, in their usual corner. Abe knew that Hanai wasn't a threat here, though, that Hanai would be just as scared of him at this moment as everyone else, and so it didn't matter that Hanai was speaking up, since Abe intended to thoroughly ignore him.

Abe held up the staple gun, hefting it with a sense of true delight, before point it off towards the ceiling and firing off a single staple, which fell harmlessly to the floor with a little tinkling noise.

Why didn't people ever understand? Abe was _good_ at scaring people.

Not scaring people, that was what was truly difficult.

Shimizu Koichi was frozen in place, not having moved from the moment Abe pulled out the staple gun.

"See?" Abe gently took Shimizu Koichi's hand, and moved it away from the envelope. With loving precision, Abe stapled down one of the four corners of the envelope, the staple easily cutting into the wood desktop. "You should look later, when no one else is around."

Shimizu Koichi paled.

Who knew what tiresome nonsense was running through Shimizu Koichi's head at this very moment, what particular fears this indirect threat was touching off? Abe didn't, and he didn't much care.

"Mmm," Abe said, as he slowly and precisely stapled down the second corner. "You know, I wonder. Do you think this could cut through skin just as easily? I bet it can."

Of course, anyone who knew Abe at all would understand that this was an unrealizable threat. Abe could never put a staple through someone else's flesh, it simply wasn't right. But he could think about it, and he didn't see any moral issue in letting people know the scope of the ideas that ran through his mind.

The room was dead silent as Abe stapled down the remaining corners. He stepped back, admiring his work. It truly looked perfect. Absolutely symmetrical, a staple for each of the four corners.

Time for his master stroke of genius. Abe held up one hand, curling his fingers as he examined the palm. Casually, as if it weren't worth making a big deal of, Abe held the staple gun against the heel of his hand, and let one staple snap directly into his body. He flinched, but only a little.

Once it was done, Abe held out his hand, palm out, directly in Shimizu Koichi's line of sight. "Look at that," he marveled. "It _does_."

And that was that. Abe turned his back on Shimizu Koichi, and unlike the first time he'd done so, this time he knew, without needing to hope, that he'd never have to bother himself with this person ever again.

Abe went to take his seat.

He thought back to his report, the words he had for Shimizu Koichi, words he now knew without a doubt would be read only when the other boy was alone. Words he sincerely hoped that Shimizu Koichi would take to heart.

_In conclusion, you would be best advised to involve yourself in more wholesome activities in the future._

_Baseball would be ideal._

It was sound advice.


	5. his scorched earth policy on human relations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The number you have reached is not in service. Please hang up, and try again.

_his scorched earth policy on human relations_

"Er, Abe?"

"Mm?"

"Can you stop doing that?" Hanai swallowed, and then continued. "It's getting kind of creepy."

Abe looked down. All he was doing was holding his broken phone, flipping it open and closed. Open, and closed. What was the harm in that?

A week had passed following the incident with Shimizu Koichi, and his parents hadn't yet been able to take him to go get a replacement phone. Even though the old one wasn't functional, in theory it still contained a register of all of his old text messages, as well as all his collected phone numbers, and so Abe had taken to carrying it around with him everywhere, anyway, pulling it out and brooding over it whenever he thought of something he wished he could tell Mihashi.

"Give me yours, then." Abe held out his hand. "I want to tell Mihashi something."

On this point, Hanai had yet to budge, but it was obvious that he was wavering, because instead of the instant no, there was a pause before Hanai replied. "What do you want to tell him?"

"That's really none of your business."

"... but it's my phone. I'll be able to look at the message after you send it, you know."

"You'd actually do that?"

"Uh..." Hanai rubbed at the back of his head. "I wouldn't go out of my way to, no. But..." He was clearly at a loss for how to justify his intrusive inquisitiveness. "Um, I'll definitely end up having to read his reply, right? So..."

"So what does it matter? You'll find out eventually."

Before Hanai could answer, Mizutani piped in, or rather, butted in, slapping his own phone down on Abe's desk. "Use mine. I promise I don't care."

Abe gave Hanai a significant glance, a "see, this is what real friends do" look that Hanai totally blew off. Picking up Mizutani's phone, he started to type.

_Mihashi, Abe here. I'm feeling a lot better today._

Normally, he'd write more, but Abe didn't actually trust Mizutani not to peek at the exchange later. And it wasn't like Abe especially cared if Hanai would have looked, either. But it was just weird talking about what he wanted to write, as if he needed to get permission. Hanai should know better, and so it was highly disappointing that he didn't.

Ever since the incident with Shimizu Koichi, things had generally been kind of tense everywhere. Here in class was where it was the worst, since most of his classmates still had this shell-shocked air about them whenever Abe looked their way, and Shimizu Koichi himself looked positively terrified almost every time Abe made any big movements, such as standing up, or yawning. It kind of pissed Abe off that his necessary countermeasures ended up creating such bothersome long term consequences, but it was nothing other than what he expected, and there was still another shoe to drop, the matter of Official Punishment.

Considering how much time had passed, and how scared everyone was still acting, it was possible that no one from their class would ever report what had happened. Obviously that would be the best outcome, but Abe was somewhat of a pessimist so he didn't hold out much hope for that. However, as time went on, the chances for any serious consequences were diminishing rapidly.

Abe had prepared himself to accept detention, even suspension, secure in the knowledge that his actions had never risen to the level that would bar him from club participation. But ideally, he'd get a pass, since on a cosmic level his actions had been more than justified.

Mizutani had been proving to be unexpectedly understanding in regards to Abe's need to text Mihashi. Maybe he still felt bad about what he'd said that one time when he took Abe's phone, and was trying to make it up to him, but more likely Mizutani was just the sort of kind-hearted idiot that couldn't bear to see one of his teammates suffering from Mihashi Withdrawal, as Abe so obviously was.

He really wished he could write more to Mihashi, but this was Mizutani's phone. After thinking it over a bit longer, Abe pressed "send," and returned the phone to its rightful owner.

"Anyway... Abe." Hanai sounded nervous, which meant that he was going to try to get Abe to talk about his feelings or some similar garbage. His concerned posturing seemed highly dubious in baseline merit, considering that Hanai wouldn't even let Abe use his phone, but Abe was reasonable enough to allow that the two things probably didn't correlate in Hanai's mind, even though they really should. "Have you spoke to Momokan yet?"

"No. And I don't intend to."

Talk about none of anyone's business. What did Momokan have to do with any of this?

"But..."

"Don't piss me off."

At that, there was a generalized wave of apprehension that rippled through nearby classmates. Out of the corner of his eye, Abe noticed Shimizu shuddering visibly, and others were trembling a little, too.

Shinooka, for one. She was off in her corner with her friends, as usual, but over the last week she'd been spending a lot more time staring at Abe than talking to him. He had to admit, he was beginning to find it slightly unnerving. Abe never thought that such a plucky, accomplished girl, one he considered a friend, would need to be slated in the "fears me" column of his mental register of acquaintances.

It made him vaguely sad.

He wished he could do something to lighten the overall atmosphere around him, but doing so would open him back up to retaliatory tactics from Shimizu Koichi and his merry band of idiot friends. Their fear of him was the only thing keeping them from posting the pictures they'd taken on the internet. As with many things, normally this wouldn't bother him, but there was a niggling fear that his parents, or his brother, or Mihashi, would see the pictures, and the idea of that just made him...

No. That could absolutely not be allowed to happen. Under any circumstances.

Abe held out hope that things would naturally improve over time. His bruises were already fading, including the one under his left eye. Once that was gone for good, Abe was counting on the fallibility of human memory to slowly wash away the vivid image of what he'd done from his classmate's memories, while still leaving them all with enough residual fear to know never to fuck with him ever again.

It was an important lesson for everyone, not just Shimizu Koichi. Abe realized that he'd been somewhat slack and lackadaisical in his outlook of late. His primary responsibilities were to protect Mihashi, and his family, and his team. He did not want any of them hurt, not by anything, but especially not by anything having to do with his own carelessness.

"I'm not worried about pissing you off," Hanai said, after a long enough wait that kind of betrayed the lie. "But..."

"We're not talking about this." It was hard being cold and tough like this. It would be easier and more friendly to allow himself to seem angry.

That effectively ended the conversation. Hanai just sighed, and looked away. Mizutani hadn't been practicing his magic tricks lately, either, instead preferring to send off a flurry of text messages of his own, talking to god knows who, but probably everyone. It was possible that a lot of what Mizutani was gossiping about had to do with his truly, but Abe was inclined to forgive that, especially in light of the fact that Mizutani was letting Abe borrow his phone occasionally.

"Abe Takaya, Class 7, please report to the principal's office. I repeat, Abe Takaya, Class 7, please report to the principal's office."

The overhead message, coming over the school-wide intercom, caused everyone in the class to jump.

Everyone but Abe, that was.

Ahh. Here was the other shoe, dropping. He knew that he'd been right to remain pessimistic.

First thing to do was to make use of the announcement in order to sow some supplemental fear. Abe looked over at Shimizu Koichi, stilling his features until he was sure that his face was without discernable expression. He held this pose for longer than any regular person would dare, just staring and staring until the point that _anyone_ would say that what he was doing was creepy.

Shimizu Koichi was shaking his head violently, in a silent no, it wasn't me, it wasn't me.

Once Abe was satisfied that Shimizu Koichi was fully dominated and cowed, Abe stood, and left the class without any comment to anyone.

Maybe it wasn't Shimizu Koichi, at that. It didn't matter. Abe was already sketching out a plan of minor retaliation, although any further actions would need to be covert, and without witnesses. Regardless of who had tattled, Shimizu Koichi was ultimately responsible, and would need to be punished accordingly.

En route to the principal's office, Abe was waylaid by Tajima, who appeared to materialize out of nowhere in order to pull him into a spontaneous headlock. Abe tried to shake him off, but Tajima was unusually persistent, clinging like a monkey until Abe just gave up, relenting enough to accept the out-of-the-blue assault.

"What?" He didn't have to sound happy about it, though.

"Don't be stupid," was Tajima's so-called greeting, hissed into his ear with all the tone of threat.

Not even the courtesy of a hello, which was just so typical.

Also: when was Abe ever stupid? "Thanks for your concern," Abe replied, a bit dryly. "Tell Mihashi I'll be fine."

"I'm not worried about Mihashi."

Tajima let go, finally, but was now standing in Abe's way, arms crossed. He seemed annoyed.

"Well, you should be," Abe said, stoking a bit of annoyance of his own. Wasn't Tajima Mihashi's best friend? How didn't he understand that it was just wrong to upset Mihashi like that? "Don't freak him out with your stupid worries, okay?"

Somehow Tajima found the nerve to roll his eyes. "Whatever. Sure, I promise." He poked Abe in the chest. "_You_ promise _me_ that you won't act like a freak."

"Not without cause," Abe said. "What kind of idiot idea are you contemplating that I'll do to _the principal_?"

"Staple her to the desk?"

That was deeply, deeply unfair. "Not without cause, I said."

"I'm not sure I understand the 'cause' you had when you threatened your classmate, either."

In a way, understandable, since Abe hadn't told anyone what exactly had happened. No one, not even his parents, had been allowed to see the full extent of bruising over his torso, and so most of what anyone could see was just the one black eye. He'd not told anyone that it had been a gang effort, either, since that wasn't an image he wanted people fixing in their mind. He'd definitely not told anyone about the pictures. All anyone really knew for sure was what Abe had said to Shimizu previous to this whole cascade of fail, and Abe was well aware that he'd come off like an asshole during that exchange, even though he'd only been responding to insults that had been thrown his way.

It had only ever been defense, self defense. But unless he was willing to tell anyone, which he wasn't, then it was fair for them to mischaracterize the nature of what Abe had done to retaliate.

Didn't make Tajima's lack of faith any less annoying, however.

"Well, don't worry about me now, since I plan on accepting any punishment they care to dish out."

Wasn't that the right thing? Any action was acceptable so long as it could be justified morally, owned up to publicly, and paid for consequentially.

Abe added: "I promise, I'll do the right thing."

"That's what worries me."

Maybe it was too much, expecting someone like Tajima to understand. "I'm sorry you don't see the value in living a principled life," Abe said.

For a moment Tajima looked really pissed, more pissed than Abe had ever seen him. "You--"

"Just go back to your class, and look after Mihashi."

Tajima's eyes widened. That pissed off look became utter fury for a second, but soon was tempered by some other feeling, one Abe could not read. Tajima appeared to relax, and sighed. "Was it a lie, then, that you told him you were feeling better today?"

Strangely, Abe's chest tightened, and he felt a pang of... what? Why did that question hurt so much? "He showed you my text message?"

Tajima nodded.

What was Mihashi doing, sharing his private and personal text messages around with people? It was one thing for Mizutani to see them, since Abe was using Mizutani's phone to communicate at the moment. But Mihashi had his own phone, and could be keeping his end private, if he wanted. Why didn't he want to?

"I'm sorry for questioning your morals," Abe said, after he thought about these things until his thoughts were all tangled up, and he wasn't sure what he thought anymore. "I know you're worried about me. I appreciate it. I just... I wish you wouldn't." He looked ahead, down the hall. "I don't want to be late."

"Let me come with you, then."

Abe thought about it. Why did he feel tempted to say yes? Surely that was a sign of weakness. "No," he said instead.

"Please."

It was easy sometimes to forget that Tajima had this serious side, too. That he could be just as hardcore and determined as anyone. He had a leader's personality, even if he didn't take on a leadership role, and Abe could see that Tajima was really hung up on this for some reason, to the point that he was willing to ditch class and was now begging to be allowed to help. The thought of having someone along for moral support was comforting, and Abe wished he could accept the offer. But this was personal, and private. And it wasn't anyone's business, including Mihashi's. This was a battle he had to fight on his own.

"Thanks," Abe said at last. "But no."

"Hmm..." Tajima uncrossed his arms. And then, without any warning at all, he grabbed Abe's face in both hands, and pulled it down to his level, leaning in and licking his cheek. He...

"The hell?" Abe backed off, rubbing his cheek, feeling very affronted.

"That was for luck." Tajima grinned at him, then slapped Abe's ass, and before Abe could do or say anything, Tajima was bounding off back down the hall, from whence he came. "Hurry," Tajima shouted, with a wave. "You're running late!"

For the rest of the trek to the office, Abe rubbed at his cheek.

Upon arrival, the secretary ushered him directly into the principal's office. Immediately he was surprised, because not only was the principal there, but so was Momokan.

Abe bowed slightly, hiding his confusion with a dip of his head. "Hello."

"Thanks for coming," said the principal, not rising from behind her desk, but nodding her head in return. "Please, sit."

There was a bit of a lull, while Abe took a seat on one of two chairs set up in front of the desk. Momokan was sitting in the other, and she and Abe exchanged a quiet nod. She looked very serious.

What did she need to be here for? As a character witness?

He expected the principal to speak first, but instead it was Momokan. "Do you know why you're here?"

Abe nodded. He'd never had any intention of denying what he'd done.

Obviously this was the right answer, since Momokan smiled, and even appeared to be somewhat relieved. "Did Hanai-kun talk to you, then?"

Hanai...?

"No?" Momokan's smile faded.

Mute, Abe shook his head slowly. Hanai.

"I see." Momokan looked over to the principal, who nodded at her. "This isn't about school punishment," she said, and she was back to sounding serious. "We already spoke to your classmate, Shimizu Koichi... and he categorically denied everything." She raised an eyebrow. "Even after he'd been told there was a witness, Hanai-kun, he still denied it. So, in this situation, normally the school's response would be to let the students work things out between themselves."

Abe blinked. No punishment?

But then... what was this about?

"Are you familiar with the Koshien rules committee, and the regulations on team conduct?"

Koshien?

For a moment, Abe found it difficult to breathe, his eyes widening. He hadn't thought about that at all. Appalling. All those calculations, and _he hadn't thought about that at all_.

"I take it from your response that you are," Momokan said. "So you see where the problem is?"

He did. Abe nodded. He felt utterly empty, suddenly.

Whole teams had been barred from Koshien, if only one of the teammates had been found guilty of bullying, or assault, or any number of other conduct violations.

Why hadn't he thought about that at all?

"Don't get upset," Momokan said, sounding alarmed, leaning forward and placing a hand on his shoulder. "That's why I'd hoped Hanai-kun had spoken to you beforehand."

Well. Hanai had tried.

"Two nights ago, I received a call at home, from Hanai-kun. He was worried about you." Momokan paused, and her gaze shifted slightly to his left. It seemed she was eyeing the residue of bruise, still visible. "Something happened." Her voice became quiet. "Didn't it?"

Obviously something had happened. Abe was what had happened. "Yes. I threatened Shimizu Koichi."

Technically, what he'd done could be construed as bullying.

Why hadn't he thought about that, _at all_?

"That's not what I mean."

Oh. She meant-- before. Abe really, really didn't want to talk about that.

On the other hand-- Koshien. For Mihashi...

"Yes, something happened."

"Let me explain my involvement," Momokan said. "Hanai-kun saved both you and the team a lot of trouble by bringing this to my attention early. He told me a basic outline of what he believed was going on... that your classmate had started picking on you in class, and that one day soon after you showed up, obviously hurt. The main reason he told me anything at all was because he was worried about you, since he didn't know anything about the Koshien rules. He did tell me about what you did in class, but it was his belief that you were acting in response to something that had been done to you the night before."

Slowly, Abe nodded. That was an accurate sequencing of events. Hanai could be credited with good observational skills, as well as good sense. He truly did deserve his place as the team captain.

"It is possible to avoid team disbarment, while keeping you on the team, so long as we get ahead of this and act proactively. We need to report this to the Koshien rules committee, of course: there's no sweeping this under the rug, or pretending it didn't happen. But if I provide my own report, including your own testimony, before any complaints have been made... well, odds are very good that the outcome will be judged in your favor. So, Abe-kun? It's really not that bad."

Not that bad. Abe guessed that was true.

All he would have to do would be to talk about the one thing he felt completely incapable of discussing. Knowing, full well, that the best case scenario still might be for the Koshien rules committee to require his resignation from the team, in order to allow everyone else to participate.

Still... for Mihashi... for the team...

"I'll talk," he said. "I'll tell you what happened."

This meant that his parents would probably be informed the details, too.

But...

For Mihashi...

_As long as you remember where your priorities are, and stay with me, I'll take care of you._

A small flame of hope burned in his chest. It would be okay. It wasn't that bad. Momokan said so.

But then... "You'll also need to promise never to do anything like that again."

And that's where it all went to hell.

.+.

Later that evening, Abe went to see Mihashi.

He didn't want to.

Okay, no, that was wrong. He wanted to. He just didn't want to for this.

The meeting with Momokan had ended... badly. Very badly.

As far as Abe was concerned, he didn't even want to think about it, let alone discuss it, let alone discuss it with _Mihashi_.

But of everyone, Mihashi was the one who deserved to know first.

Arriving, Abe parked his bike in the usual spot at the side of the house. Now that it was February, the days were slowly warming up and getting longer, but by the time he arrived it was dark. The lights inside were on, however, and so he went to the front door and rang.

Mihashi's mom answered the door. "Ah, Takaya-kun! Come in, come in." She seemed her usual distracted, harried self. "Ren!!!" Mihashi's mom stepped over to the staircase while Abe slipped off his shoes. "Ren! Takaya-kun is here!" She then turned back to Abe and smiled. "He'll be down in just a moment."

And it really was just a moment. Mihashi bolted down the stairs, ignoring his mother in order to grab Abe's arm by the sleeve, tugging insistently to signal for Abe to follow him back up the stairs. This was normal: Abe couldn't remember a single time that he'd been given over for extended chit-chat with Mihashi's parents, Mihashi preferring to act like a kid and greedily keep his friends to himself.

As usual, Abe waved goodbye to Mihashi's mom as he was dragged upstairs.

What wasn't usual, however, was how hyper Mihashi was. At the top of the stairs, Mihashi turned to Abe. He was breathing fast. "Hama... Hama-chan is here," he said, voice low. Mihashi took Abe's hand, almost aggressively, and squeezed it and stared in that weird way of his.

Hamada. Abe looked down at Mihashi, becoming slightly dismayed on top of everything else. Was Mihashi apologizing? For what?

"You're allowed to have friends over," he said quietly, leaning in. To his surprise, Abe found that he himself was also breathing fast... or rather, faster. He returned Mihashi's squeeze with one of his own, rubbing his thumb over the back of Mihashi's hand.

Having Hamada here was an inconvenience, to be sure. But Abe knew he couldn't bring himself to ask Mihashi to have Hamada leave, and there was no way Mihashi was going to find the courage to ask such a thing on his own. It would have to be accepted, and worked around.

"I- I missed you, though..."

Well, Abe missed him too. "Let's go," he said. He pulled his hand free, and moved for the door to Mihashi's bedroom, opening it and walking in.

Hamada was sitting on Mihashi's bed, an array of porn magazines laid out in a semi-circle in front of him. "Oh, hi Abe," he said, looking up briefly, and then returning directly to his frowning evaluation of Mihashi's porn stash. "This one," he said, picking up one of the magazines, one with a cute fresh-faced girl on the cover, wearing a bikini bottom and nothing else. "This one is my favorite," he announced, obviously picking up the thread of his conversation with Mihashi where it had broken off upon Abe's unexpected arrival. "Abe, do you have a favorite?"

"Yeah, that one," Abe said, not giving the magazine a second glance as he walked over to the little couch by the window. Mihashi followed him, and so Abe sat down on one of the couch's arms, making room so that Mihashi could sit too.

Abe didn't want to sit side-by-side next to Mihashi with Hamada here, so this was the next best thing. This way, he was facing Hamada, and also could look down at Mihashi, who sat down in the middle of the couch.

Mihashi pulled his legs up, wrapping his arms around them pensively.

"Really?" Hamada opened up the magazine, paging through it with a grin. "I can't get over this picture," he said, holding up the magazine, opened to a two-page spread. From the couch, Abe couldn't appreciate many details, but it appeared to be two girls making out, naked. "My harem's gonna have lots of this going on. All cheer girls, obviously."

Oh, obviously. "That's nice," Abe said. "So, Mihashi... how was your day?"

"He spent most of the day, not to mention all week, worrying about you," Hamada said, turning the magazine back around to himself. "Staples, jeez."

No one was going to let him live that down.

"D-did Abe-kun get in trouble?" Mihashi asked in a small voice, hugging his legs a bit more tightly. "At school, I-I mean."

"Not exactly."

"Not exactly?"

It was true. Momokan had been very clear: Abe could always change his mind. Nothing was set in stone.

Sighing, Abe pulled back the curtains on the window nearest him. It had been pretty cold, biking over without a coat at this time of the evening. But that couldn't be helped, since he'd left his coat at school today. He touched the glass, which was cold, like his hands.

Promise you'll never do anything like that again, Momokan had said.

Promise me, she had said.

Promise.

Abe remembered his answer very clearly.

"So... what kind of 'not exactly' are we talking about?" asked Hamada, bringing Abe back to the present.

"Oh... I was asked to make a promise that I couldn't," Abe said, absently, while he continued to look out into the night, straining to see Mihashi's pitching target through the dark.

"Why's that?" Hamada pressed.

Was it even any of his business? Abe owed Mihashi an explanation, sure, but he didn't owe Hamada anything at all. Why didn't Hamada just take the hint, and leave already? "Too many promises," Abe said. "It conflicted with others I've made in the past."

"And you couldn't just play along?"

"H-Hama-chan!" Mihashi cut in, reproachful.

"Sorry," Hamada said, without sounding especially sorry. "It looks like he just came over to brood, though, and be mysterious. Aren't you even the tiniest bit annoyed?"

"With Abe-kun?" Mihashi raised his voice some, sounding scandalized.

"Yes, with Abe-kun," Hamada said, and it wasn't clear if he was mildly fed up with Mihashi or simply trying to appease him. "Hey, Abe?"

Abe turned slightly from the window, to give Hamada a seemingly sleepy, seemingly listless glare. "Yes?"

"Do you want me to leave?"

"I'm not going to ask you to."

To that, Hamada smiled, and shrugged, then turned to look at Mihashi. "How about you. Do you want me to stay?" he asked, directing the question to Abe's pitcher this time. "Or--"

Well...

"Uh.... uh.... uh..." Mihashi started looking around at everything but Hamada.

"Can I take some of this porn with me when I go?" Hamada asked, with a smile for Mihashi that was significantly warmer than the one he'd given Abe. Already Hamada was straightening out the arrayed magazines, stacking them neatly in the center of Mihashi's bed. "It's okay, I don't mind leaving."

Mihashi stood up and walked over to Hamada, sounding relieved and grateful as they exchanged some final pleasantries, going over the magazines and picking out the ones that Hamada would be allowed to take, which was most of them, excepting apparently the ones including nurse cosplay.

Normally, Abe found Mihashi's nurse fetish to be amusing, but today he just couldn't bring himself to care.

Until Hamada was gone, Abe was content to stare out the window, wishing it was still winter, and wishing for the snow.

Mihashi ended up walking Hamada out, so Abe was left alone for a few minutes. He slid down off the couch's armrest, slipping into the couch proper. He loved this couch. He laid himself down, eyes closed, sprawling lengthwise across it on his back, with his legs dangling over the far side. He crossed his arms over his chest.

He was tired of bullshit promises.

Abe didn't open his eyes when Mihashi returned: not when the door opened, not when it closed, and not when Mihashi walked slowly over to where Abe was, until he was standing right next to the couch.

"A-Abe-kun?"

He didn't open his eyes then, either.

"Are you okay?" Mihashi asked, and Abe felt rather than saw Mihashi kneel down next to the couch. Warm fingers brushed the side of his face.

"Not as good as I was earlier, no."

"T-tell me..."

Unlike the anger he'd felt earlier, right now Abe felt entirely numb. It didn't even feel good when Mihashi continued to touch him, exploring his face and neck with gentle hands, and then dropping a small kiss on the area on his cheek where the fading bruise could still be seen. It didn't feel good, but it didn't hurt either.

Abe opened his eyes, and looked up at Mihashi, who was leaning in close. "I quit the team," he said.

How could he even explain it? How could he get Mihashi to understand the rage he'd felt, when presented with yet one more promise he'd been asked to make? One more bullshit promise, heaped on top of a skull-and-bones mountain of bullshit promises?

It wouldn't do, because to be critical of the one would implicitly be critical of all of them... all of those promises, made with the best intention and will in the world; impossible, unkeepable promises, ones he continued to break over and over again. When Momokan had asked him to promise, he almost said yes right away, willing to play along... just as Hamada suggested he should have. He'd opened his mouth to say yes, certainly, anything for Mihashi...

But then the weight of all his broken promises had crushed down on him.

"Oh," Mihashi was saying, looking down into Abe's eyes, fearful and sad. "Oh." Tears began streaking Mihashi's cheeks, as was only to be expected at this point.

"There were reasons," Abe said. He wasn't especially surprised when he had to blink back a few tears of his own.

Maybe it was a conditioned response. Maybe not.

For a minute, Mihashi sniveled and Abe said nothing. It wasn't like he couldn't explain his reasons, but where to begin? And did it even matter? He'd had plenty of time to reconsider the decision he made earlier, but every time he tried, he came back to the same conclusion: doing what was best for Mihashi was more important than making, or keeping, any one of his many bullshit promises.

"It was not done easily," Abe said, finally. He looked beyond Mihashi, to the ceiling, staring blankly at nothing. "Or lightly."

Which bullshit promise had he broken first?

Oh, yes, the one he'd made back when he'd been a child, the one to never make his mother cry. How soon before making it had he needed to break it-- a week? A month? Lately Abe's track record with this one had been pretty decent, which was probably a side effect of growing up, but obviously recent events had blown his record all to hell.

He should have realized it back then: he was shitty at keeping promises, period.

So, next. What about his bullshit promise to Haruna? The one where he said he'd be able to catch Haruna's pitches. That one was hardly worth mentioning, since he'd broken it straightaway. It had hardly even been a promise, it was more like bragging, but Haruna had made him pay for it dearly for half a year, before he'd even begun to be able to keep it. And once he finally had acquired the skills to be able to keep it... well, he'd thrown that all away, hadn't he?

It was exactly as Haruna said: Abe was back to not being able to catch his pitches anymore, and probably never would again.

Of course, then there were the many bullshit promises he'd made to Mihashi, each more extravagant and unrealistic than the last.

For example, there was the bullshit promise to never get hurt, or sick, for a full three years.

And then, to name another, there was the bullshit promise to catch for Mihashi, for every game he played, over that same three year period.

Most recently, and probably most egregiously, there was that bullshit promise, the one he'd made in his heart, to take care of Mihashi. That so long as Mihashi remembered his priorities, and remained faithful, that he, Abe Takaya, would take care of him.

Mihashi always kept his side of that unspoken bargain.

But had Abe?

Having prepared himself to wait out a storm of dramatic tears and self-flagellation, Abe was a bit surprised to realize that all he was going to get were these silent tears. Why wasn't Mihashi informing Abe of how crappy a pitcher he'd be without him, or indulging in a banquet of self blame?

Abe turned from the ceiling, re-focusing his gaze as he looked back at Mihashi. Why wasn't Mihashi begging him to stay?

His carefully cultivated sense of distance began to crumble.

"Mihashi?" Abe reached out and touched Mihashi's wet cheek with his ice-cold hand.

"It's... it's... o-okay..."

He... didn't mind?

No, that wasn't right. Mihashi had become a lot better at controlling his crying over the last several months, so the fact that he was crying now was significant. Mihashi obviously minded, and cared. But... he was trying not to? What was going on here? Abe sat up, and Mihashi followed Abe with his eyes, gazing up while still kneeling. The tears were still there, and were still flowing.

Maybe Mihashi just didn't understand what Abe was saying?

Abe hesitated, then asked. "Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

Mihashi bit his lower lip, and nodded. Just once.

"But-- why?" Abe asked, lamely.

Why wasn't Mihashi trying to stop him?

Instead of answering, Mihashi stood up. Abe was still sitting with his legs up on the couch, although he'd pulled them in so they were no longer hanging over the armrest. Slowly, Mihashi climbed into Abe's lap, settling in carefully, and then kissed Abe on the mouth.

Abe froze. What the hell?

His wasn't any kind of behavior that should be rewarded. Did Mihashi really, _really_ understand? Abe was abandoning him here! Abe opened his mouth to protest, but Mihashi just took advantage of that, and slipped his tongue in Abe's mouth, while wrapping his arms around Abe's shoulders... the bruises on his back stung a little, with that, but Abe hardly even noticed in the face of all his bafflement and confusion.

It was impossible for Abe to kiss back under the circumstances, but Mihashi didn't seem to mind. Mihashi still had tears running down his cheek, salty tears which ran to Abe's lips, tears he could taste. But Mihashi kept going, single-mindedly, and it was just weird, and awful, and wrong. How could Abe possibly deserve such kind treatment?

It made him want to cry! Damn it. It made him...

"I... I... you k-know... I believe... I do, I really do... I-I believe in Abe-kun..."

Unlike the time with his mom, this time, Abe was able to settle himself, before breaking down completely.

"I'm sorry..." he choked out, mumbling, turning his head so that Mihashi couldn't kiss him. Abe cleared his throat. "I'm sorry," he said again, more clearly on his second try.

No more. No more promises.

No more _bullshit_ promises.

Those were the things he'd told Momokan, becoming more bitter and harsh with every word.

She didn't understand at first, obviously. So Abe had explained it all, in excruciating, withering detail. He'd savored the way that both she and the principal had flinched, as he went over all the things that Shimizu Koichi had said to him, from the first confrontation, to the last. He didn't spare them at all, making sure that they knew all about the hard work he'd done, the research he'd needed to do in order to secure victory. He told them about the pictures, about the insults, everything.

And you want me to promise never to do this ever again, he'd said, when he was all done. You want me to promise that, to you?

Defense could not be achieved at that price. Koshien was sure to reject him anyway, and so why should he promise something like that?

Momokan had tried to take it back, tried to say that maybe the promise wasn't needed after all, but by then it was too late. Abe had made his decision, with all the strength of soul-strangling conviction.

What had Abe's promises ever gotten him, other than turning him into a tool?

"Don't..." Abe said, pushing Mihashi back, away. "Don't..."

Mihashi deserved better than to have a tool as a catcher.

The one thing he owed Mihashi, the most important thing, was not to drag Mihashi down with him.

Abe could feel himself disintegrating, knew that his will was crumbling. He wanted, so badly, just to give in, and accept Mihashi's trust. To be whatever Mihashi wanted him to be, and make any promises Mihashi needed him to make. But it wasn't good for Mihashi. Ultimately, Abe was going to tear him down, with the intensity of his concern and involvement... Abe knew this himself. The very promises that Mihashi needed were ones Abe was just too weak to keep, and so in the end... wouldn't he just betray him? Wouldn't he just be letting him down? The longer he let this go on, the worse it would be... right?

Better for Mihashi to cut his losses now. The second year would be starting soon. Tajima was a worthy replacement catcher. The team most certainly could thrive without Abe's participation.

But Mihashi just started kissing Abe's cheek, and his neck, and his lips were so soft on Abe's skin.

"A-Abe-kun... you..." Mihashi's whispered reassurances stabbed at Abe's heart. "A-Abe-kun is just, is just... doing what he has to..."

Abe was not worthy of such trust.

Firmly, and because Abe was stronger physically, he pushed Mihashi from his lap, and stood.

"Don't look for me," he said, as harshly as he could, which wasn't all that harsh, considering how spent and wrung out and defeated he was. "There's no benefit for you here, with me."

Maybe Mihashi had needed him in the beginning. But now, that was over.

"You will do well," Abe added, softly.

And then he left.


	6. his former ace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter the poster boy for "It's Complicated": Haruna Motoki.

  
_his former ace_   


"You've got to be kidding me."

These words were Abe's opening salvo in what would surely soon become all-out war.

Having cut ties with the Nishiura baseball team, Abe was no longer obligated to attend team workouts or any other related club activities, and thus was getting used to leaving school right after classes were over. He was still keeping in shape, but no longer had access to the school's facilities, and so his new routine involved going to a gym near his house instead, where he would work out for a couple hours before returning home to immerse himself in his studies until it was time for bed.

It wasn't so bad, all things considered, but it did mean that Abe wanted to leave quickly. Without fuss or bother.

And-- he thought to himself, caustically-- most importantly, without spectacle.

"Takayaaaa!!"

As Abe knew all too well, you can't always get what you want.

Approaching the racks where he'd parked his bike, the first thing Abe had noticed was the small crowd of girls gathered about, all admiring some idiot riding around in circles on one of the bikes. First Abe had slowed, then stopped, repositioning his bag's shoulder strap as he took it all in. The idiot was a tall guy, wearing some outside school's uniform, and he'd been shouting loudly, obnox-- crap. It was Haruna.

Following Abe's incredulous "you've got to be kidding me," some of the girls near the back turned to glance at him.

"Oi! Oi! Takaya!! Takayaaaa~~~!"

Rooted in place, Abe stood with his mouth slightly agape, but with his right fist already clenched and raised. It was obvious that Haruna had spotted him, what with the way he was shouting Abe's name like a happy lunatic, waving at him cheerfully while continuing to make his circles and figure-eights.

Un-freakin-believable.

The best part?

That bastard was goofing around on _Abe's bike_.

"There you are! Takaya!"

The crowd parted and the girls began to scatter when Abe took a step forward, walking slowly but with obvious menace. "What the fuck." Abe pointed. "Get the fuck off my bike." He felt the corner of his mouth begin to twitch. "Now!" His voice was becoming progressively louder with each word, and by the time he got to "now" Abe was in full bellow.

"Hello to you too!"

The worst part was probably the delighted grin that broke across Haruna's face.

"HARUNA." Abe's shout was a warning shot across the metaphorical bow of his moral event horizon.

As the one person who could be reliably counted on to never take Abe seriously, let alone fear him, it wasn't surprising that Haruna simply laughed, making a swift about face and suddenly biking furiously in an away direction, out towards the main gate. "Follow me!" Haruna turned to give Abe one of his most smug, arrogant little smiles. "If you can!"

Abe broke into a sprint. Like hell he'd let that bastard get away with _his bike_.

Keeping up proved to be impossible, but in the end this turned out not to matter, since Haruna was found loitering just outside the gate, waiting for Abe with crossed arms and smirking to high heaven. By the time Abe spotted him, Haruna had already stepped off the bike and was now standing next to it, kickstand down. Abe slowed to a jog and then a walk.

Assuming that Haruna had been looking to deflect Abe's anger, it seemed that the burst of exertion was having its intended effect: as his breathing slowed, Abe's rage was already on the wane, replaced with spite and annoyance instead. "What the fuck are you doing?" Abe asked testily, no longer shouting.

"Collecting you." Haruna pointed to a car parked a bit down the street. Abe recognized it; the car belonged to Haruna's father, a silver Miata. He'd been in it before.

"And my bike?"

"Yep!"

Abe sighed. It didn't take a genius to figure out what all this was about, either.

Goddamn meddlesome Mihashi. He just didn't know when to give up, did he?

"Still using the same combination lock, I see," Haruna said, as he disengaged the kickstand and began walking Abe's bike towards the car.

So what? Haruna always had enjoyed bragging about the stupidest, most insignificant things, hadn't he? Such as, in this case, his ability to jimmy a lock when he already knew the combination. "Still an asshole, I see," Abe said, following along.

How annoying was it, that Abe knew already that he was going to go along with this asinine scheme, just because it had the unmistakable taint of Mihashi meddling?

Pretty goddamn annoying.

This just proved Abe's thesis, that all pitchers were secretly bastards at heart.

And, apparently, joined at the hip in some secret fraternity of self-absorption and utter shamelessness.

There was a hitch-mounted bike rack hooked up to the back of the Miata, which severely undercut the awesomeness of the car in Abe's opinion. Haruna immediately went to work attaching Abe's bike, so Abe sullenly walked over to the passenger's side door and stood there, impatient to get this over with.

By no means was this the first harebrained scheme Mihashi had concocted, in the weeks since Abe had quit the team.

There had been the Inept Stalking scheme, wherein Mihashi proved, without a shadow of a doubt, to deserve the title Worst Stalker Ever, a title Abe had spontaneously christened him with while shouting at Mihashi in one memorable exchange where Mihashi was attempting to hide behind a lamppost. Mihashi had really gotten to him that time, because before he knew it Abe's aggravated rant devolved into a lecture, with him offering up improved stalking tips while Mihashi nodded along thoughtfully. He couldn't help it... when you did something, how hard was it to try do it _right_?

Next, there had been the Secret Snacks scheme, where Mihashi had started dropping off little healthy goodies in Abe's shoe locker, protein bars and oranges and shit, as if to prove that he knew a thing or two about nutrition. Abe had eaten them all, but under protest.

Most recently, and worst in Abe's opinion, was Mihashi's Suck Up To Family scheme, exploiting one of the weakest points in Abe's defense by coming over to play video games with Shun (and since when was Mihashi friends with Shun?) or to be adorable at his mother, providing updates on the team's progress as well as his own personal pitching progress, updates Abe's mother had no problems passing on to her firstborn child, with all the relish of a turncoat. Mihashi even helped her make dinner sometimes. It was unbearable.

But this had to top all, this Haruna Abduction scheme.

"Where are we going?" Abe asked, still sullen as he buckled himself in, once Haruna got into the car.

"You'll see." Haruna turned over the ignition, and the car roared to life.

Haruna Motoki hadn't yet been driving when Abe had known him, back in the Senior league. Since this was a two-seater sports car, Abe's familiarity with the car was based largely on exterior assessments, looking out for the car while waiting for Haruna's arrival at practice, or watching as his (former) ace left after practice was over. Haruna's father had been the driver back then, and had proven himself to be an unexpectedly good sport in terms of supporting his bratty son, faithfully providing transport so that Haruna didn't have waste time biking to and from home.

Haruna's dad had seemed to be a pretty okay guy. Abe had no beef with him.

But one time, Abe had been inside the Miata. That day, Haruna's dad had been invited to a meeting with the coach, and so Haruna was outside waiting. "Wait with me," Haruna Motoki had demanded, and when Abe agreed, thinking this meant that he'd be standing outside with him, Haruna ended up pulling Abe into the car after settling in himself, making Abe sit in his lap. "Keep me company," he'd said. What could Abe do? He'd already agreed. He'd practically promised.

So, despite making many protests, and a fair degree of struggling, all of which Haruna blissfully ignored, Abe remained in Haruna's lap for the entire wait, teased by a laughing Haruna until it was time for the damned pitcher to leave already.

To this day, the memory remained vivid. Annoyingly so. Just thinking about it made Abe's mood darken.

As Haruna wended his way into local traffic, Abe was mildly diverted to note that Haruna drove like an old man, going at least five kilometers-per-hour under the speed limit, often more like ten or twenty under. Considering Haruna's safety fetish and pathological fear of injuries, this wasn't at all surprising, but experiencing it in action gave Abe a brief but enjoyable sensation of ironic schadenfreude, or something.

It didn't take them very long to get to their mystery destination; about thirty minutes or so, tops. Along the way, neither he nor Haruna said much. Haruna drove with the radio set quietly to NHK news, the driver's side window cracked open. Since it was still very early in spring, the hard top was still up, despite the fact that it was a clear, sunny day.

The destination proved to be something of a diversion in its own right.

"Musashino?" Abe asked, with a bit of wryness. Haruna couldn't be any more creative than to bring Abe to his own school?

"A little bird told me that you normally work out around this time. I wouldn't want to deprive you."

"You brought me to do _weights_?"

"Actually, I was thinking catch-ball."

This whole plan had the finesse and grace of a sledgehammer. Still, it had been a bit of a while since Abe had done anything truly baseball related. "Just regular catch-ball?"

"Yeah... I don't have catcher's gear for you to borrow, and we can't use the team's since it's already currently in use."

"You're skipping practice for this?"

"Yep." Haruna found a parking space, and pulled in. Once parked, he turned to Abe, refreshing his earlier smirk. "Being the ace has privileges, you know."

"Only you would think that slacking is a privilege." Mihashi would never do or say anything so lame.

"Mm-hmm," was Haruna's noncommittal response.

Together they got out of the car, Abe leaving his bag on the seat. Haruna went to pop the trunk after folding down the bike rack, and so Abe met him behind the car. Abe's eyes widened as Haruna bent over, digging through the stuff in the trunk.

It was a scene of baseball carnage. There were bats and gloves and balls all tossed in together, several of each, with some piles of clothes Abe assumed were dirty, as well as some random exercise equipment. Abe couldn't imagine why anyone would need two bats, let alone six or seven, and all those gloves...! Several different sizes and colors of regular gloves, a couple catcher's gloves, all in such pathetic, woebegone, used up state. Obviously this was the graveyard for all of Haruna's historical equipment, but even if a glove had been retired or a bat set aside, there was no excuse for this level of disorganization and carelessness. None.

"That is the worst thing I have ever seen," Abe breathed.

"What, besides me?" Haruna asked, obnoxiously cheerful. "Here, use this." Haruna handed over a halfway decent right-hander's glove.

Abe held the glove, stroking it sadly. "I'm sorry you had to find yourself with such a sorry excuse for an owner," he told the glove.

"Come off it," Haruna said, picking out a lefty glove for himself. "It lived a long life of honorable service. Would it be better if I just threw all this shit out?"

"No, but you could organize better." Abe sighed. "Bring your dad's car over to my house some time and I will build you a systemized storage space." It wasn't like Abe wanted to do anything nice for Haruna. But all his poor stuff...

"I will never cease to be fascinated by your priorities," Haruna said, picking out a baseball, from all the ones just rolling around loose. "Alright, let's go." Haruna closed the trunk, and started walking towards the practice fields.

Abe could see the Musashino team, but Haruna veered off in a separate direction, leading Abe instead to the soccer fields, which currently were vacant.

Catch-ball was a nice, easy way to warm up... for the most part it didn't constitute real practice, since it was such a basic activity, but it was one of the activities baseball players engaged in the most. It was mindless and comforting, so when Haruna made his first throw while they were still walking over, Abe caught it instinctively, and returned it just as fast.

This was all Mihashi's doing.

That damn Mihashi.

"So... you heard from Mihashi?" Abe asked, not able to help himself.

"Oh, but did I." Haruna waved for Abe to stop where he was, and then continued to walk further down the field, but not going too far since they were just starting out. "That squirt is getting pretty cheeky now that he's about to become a second year."

Mihashi, cheeky? That seemed to imply that even Haruna was having better luck than Abe ever had in getting Mihashi to speak normally. "I see," Abe said. He didn't really know what else to say.

Haruna tossed the ball up into the air, and then threw normally. "Would you like to know what we talked about?"

The glove Haruna was lending him turned out to be pretty comfortable and good for light catching. Maybe when Haruna brought the car over for Abe to measure the trunk space, he'd get Haruna to leave all the equipment behind, too, for some much needed rehab. "Yes," Abe said, returning the ball.

Normally, that wasn't the kind of question Abe would say "yes" to. But maybe he'd make an exception, just this once.

"Too bad!" Haruna started laughing, cracking up.

Abe froze, and Haruna giggled for a little bit, before amending his statement. "No... sorry, just kidding. I'll tell you." He laughed some more.

"I am aware that I have no right to know the details," Abe said, unappeased, and standing stiffly.

"Sorry, sorry... but you're just so hilarious, Takaya. So goddamn serious. It's just too much fun to tease you."

Fun. Abe was pretty goddamn sure that wasn't the world _he'd_ use.

Haruna was still holding the ball, and wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, as if removing tears. Yeah, this was "fun" alright. Another brilliant Mihashi scheme. "He's not trying to get you back on the team, you know," Haruna said, finally settling down, taking a few steps back.

Abe looked down.

"He thinks it's wrong to force you. His thoughts are, and I quote, Abe-kun must be happy, no matter what."

Oh. Oh, Mihashi.

Abe could just imagine how he would have said that, too.

"He's such an idiot," Abe said, quietly.

"No more than some other idiots I could name," Haruna said. "Look sharp, I'm going to throw."

Another toss, caught easily. Abe held the ball. "Mihashi should spend more time looking out for his own happiness."

"That's rich," Haruna said. "How is it that you think he's not?" He held up his glove and waved it.

"Ball back," Abe said, returning the ball as directed. "Because he's an idiot."

"He's an idiot because he cares what happens to you? What?" Haruna laughed. "Oh, Takaya."

There were so many different ways Abe could respond to that, since he was in the right and he knew it, but it bothered him that Haruna had a point. Mihashi _did_ care, which was the whole problem. "I'm not the only catcher in the world," Abe said, as patiently as he could considering that he was internally seething. "Did he tell you he wants to go pro too?" This was a secret that Abe was sure no-one besides himself knew, and he wasn't entirely sure why he was trotting it out now. "He's got to learn to stand on his own."

Just like you did, Abe thought to himself.

"No, but I figured," Haruna said, loudly. The distance between them was growing with each toss, and so now they both needed to speak up some. "I've been meeting up with him lately, so he and I can swap tips."

"Huh?"

"Yeah. There's only so far a pitcher can go, taking advice from catchers, you know."

The way Haruna said that, pointing it out matter-of-factly, as a fundamental truth and not as any kind of special jab, was very, very trying.

"Why are you even helping him?" Abe asked, gritting his teeth and going for a calm, measured tone.

They continued to pass the ball back and forth.

"We're helping _each other_," Haruna said, seemingly unsurprised by Abe's question. "Hey, did you know that he's got a pitching target at home he's divided nine ways? And that he's got five different kinds of pitches?"

Did he...? Was Haruna serious? "I... can't believe you even just asked me that."

Anyone else might have heeded the note of warning embedded in Abe's tightly worded statement. Haruna simply grinned. "To answer your question, I'm helping him because I can. And because I want to. And because I can get something out of it. Does that annoy you?"

Very. "Not at all."

For a moment, a slight breeze kicked up, a short blast of extra cool air. Once it ended, the air seemed comparatively stuffy and close, and Abe felt strangely stifled. Haruna had plucked Abe's latest toss from the air using his glove, and instead of returning it, he looked Abe over thoughtfully, a top-to-bottom evaluation.

"Mihashi told me everything, you know." There was no longer any note of amusement in Haruna's voice.

Yeah, well, duh. "So?"

"So, don't think I'm here just because he asked me to be here. Or that I'm only doing what he wants me to do."

All-out war. Abe ground his teeth. He'd almost forgotten. This was all-out, total war.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Crossing his arms, Haruna leaned back a bit. Again with the annoyingly speculative once-over. "Okay." He then looked to the side, and then pointed over to the home-team bleachers. "Let's sit."

"Tch. Fine." Reluctantly, Abe followed Haruna's lead. He didn't like that Haruna was dictating this whole encounter, but Haruna had been dictating each and every one of their encounters since the first day they'd met, so it was hardly a new experience.

If he were simply at war with Haruna, Abe would surely lose, but then Abe wouldn't care, because he'd stopped caring about that a long time ago.

But this war was a proxy war. It was really a battle against Mihashi. A battle to get Mihashi to let go, and admit that he could do better without Abe in his life.

It was a war Abe fully intended to win.

And really. What the hell was Mihashi doing, anyway, revealing all of his secrets to the enemy? Did Mihashi not remember that Haruna was from a rival school? That was total tactical idiocy.

Perhaps Mihashi was under the impression that he needed to use bait to get Haruna on board with his abduction scheme, or worse, maybe he'd been hoping that Abe would be so aggravated upon hearing about this lapse of judgement, that Abe would go running back to take over where he'd left off, managing Mihashi's life the way Mihashi so obviously enjoyed having it managed.

The idiot. He was such an idiot. Why couldn't Mihashi have as much faith in _himself_ as he had in Abe?

At the very least, Mihashi deserved that faith a lot more than Abe ever did, or could.

As was Haruna's common practice, he went all the way to the highest bleacher and sat right now in the middle. As was Abe's, when dealing with Haruna, he took a seat one step down and a little to the side, so that he wouldn't have to look at Haruna's face. It was always best not to have to look at Haruna's face.

Abe set the borrowed glove down beside him.

Once he sat down, Haruna kicked him lightly in the back. "Not there," Haruna complained. "Don't sit there."

Abe didn't turn around. He leaned forward, putting his forearms on his knees. "Deal."

As in, "deal with it." He knew where Haruna wanted him to sit. No way would Abe even consider it.

Haruna kicked him a couple more times, light taps to the middle of Abe's back, in that area where he happened to be somewhat ticklish. Abe had never revealed this secret to Haruna, but sometimes he suspected that Haruna had figured it out anyway, considering how he always knew to aim right for that one spot. Abe closed his eyes, and gritted his teeth, waiting for the assault to end.

"Stingy," Haruna murmured at last.

Damn right, he was stingy. What did Haruna care, really? Haruna liked teasing him, that was all. He had no interest in anything besides that.

As if to underscore this point, Haruna reached forward to ruffle Abe's hair from behind, with that deceptive fondness of his. Abe did his best not to flinch.

"I can't believe you're not going to be there when I cream your pitcher," Haruna said. "You might not care, and he might not care, but I'm kind of pissed off. Don't you have any idea how much I had to go through with your manager, to get her to agree to letting us have the first practice match of the season?"

"Oh?" Shinooka had never mentioned that she'd fought the idea. Abe felt a warm flush of gratitude towards her. Surely she must have known it was a losing battle, since all Haruna had to do would be to go above her directly to Momokan. The fact that she'd tried anyway was a testament to her loyalty, and Abe couldn't help but appreciate it.

"You're such a dick sometimes, Takaya. I hope you know that. That girl hates me, I can totally tell, and was really stubborn and reluctant even to talk to me. I could tell you've totally prejudiced her against me, which is a shame because she's actually pretty cute."

"Is she?" Abe asked, is his best dickishly bored fashion.

"She is!" Haruna sounded outraged. "Don't make cute girls hate me, it's very unfair!"

"Why is it unfair?"

"I'm tired of losing out to other baseball players when it comes to girls, that's why!"

Huh, whatever. Abe was sure there was some story behind this but he couldn't really care less. "I guess you're right. Chiyo-san _is_ pretty cute, isn't she?" he said, returning to that bored tone.

Sounding bored was about the only defense he had against Haruna, and usually it worked, if only for a little while.

"Don't tell me you--!" Haruna inflicted Abe with the kind of noogie action that Abe preferred using on Mihashi. "Arrgh, Takaya, you...!"

"No, we're not dating," Abe admitted, but only after Haruna was done messing around with his head. It was kind of amazing that Haruna had never figured out how little interest Abe had in girls. "She's not my type."

"I'd love to know what your type actually is," Haruna said, proving Abe's point. "Didn't you say she's cute?"

Yeah, in the way kittens were cute. "You want to ask her out? Go ahead. But is that what you brought me here to talk about?"

"No, it isn't!" Haruna seemed to suddenly remember his purpose. "I was really looking forward to playing you and your team! How dare you deprive me just because you've got some bug up your ass about Mihashi?"

"It's not about Mihashi. It's about _ethical principles_."

"Ethical principles my ass! All I can see is that you're being a dick to Mihashi, just like you're sometimes a dick to me and everyone else, and there's no good reason why. So what if you got beat up? Worse has happened to you during games... hell, worse has happened to you when you were learning to catch my pitches. You've always been ridiculously stoic, so what gives?" Haruna sounded annoyed. "I thought he was different to you, somehow."

Different to him. Yes, Mihashi was certainly "different to him." Abe felt his chest tighten, and for a moment it was difficult to breathe, and his nose itched. "What I'm doing is for his own good. You don't know. You have no idea."

As probably was to be expected, Haruna slipped down to Abe's level, sitting himself down on the bleacher right next to him, wrapping an arm around Abe's shoulders and getting uncomfortably close. Abe hated that Haruna was able to get into his space so easily, and he hated that Abe always felt constrained not to fight back, because the last thing he'd want to do would be to hurt Haruna's pitching arm. Even if Haruna was no longer his ace, Abe felt an obligation to protect him, if only to this small degree. It was okay to squirm, and to struggle a little, but Haruna knew that unless he pushed all of Abe's buttons at once, he was safe. Haruna had only ever gone that far that once, and Abe knew he'd never go that far ever again.

"I don't believe Mihashi knows the whole story," Haruna said, speaking right into Abe's ear. "He doesn't think you've told him anything, really, and I'm inclined to agree, since I know you."

"It doesn't matter. What's done is done." Abe closed his eyes, and tried not to feel the warmth of Haruna's arm as it seeped into his back. Haruna was not Mihashi.

Haruna was not Mihashi.

"So? Maybe you're right. Maybe you're done with baseball, and Mihashi, and me, and everyone... for good. But tell me the truth, at least. And tell me all of it. Otherwise I'll never forgive you, and I'll start by stealing your bike." Haruna's voice was still jocular, but Abe could sense the cold, threatening Haruna Motoki underneath... the Motoki-san he first knew, and who existed within Haruna still.

The Haruna Motoki that Abe once had deeply, deeply admired. "Okay," Abe said, swallowing, giving up. "Although if you steal my bike you can forget about the systemized storage space..."

"Shut up about the systemize storage space. Only you care about that." But Haruna sounded pleased, as well he should, since he'd won yet another round.

Haruna stopped crowding Abe, removing his arm from Abe's shoulders and moved to now sit one bleacher below him, looking up expectantly. Abe swallowed once more. He was being forced to look at Haruna's face. And worse, even though Haruna was no longer touching him, the scent of his cologne still lingered, the same cologne Haruna had used back in Seniors, a spicy, wooden scent that was actually quite pleasant despite being undoubtedly crass.

Abe began directly, telling the full story much as he had to the principal and Momokan, but without the attendant rage and cruelty. Haruna listened, intent, the smirk wiped from his face early on, but maintaining an otherwise neutral expression. He nodded a few times, and frowned once, but that was all. Abe appreciated the lack of emotional response, it made it easier to talk... and somehow, it wasn't difficult to talk to Haruna, despite everything.

"And that's all of it," Abe concluded, with a small sigh.

"Hmm." Haruna crossed his arms. "You know--" He stopped, closed his mouth, then opened it. "You know, so, yesterday... you'll find this hilarious… it took me and my dad over two hours to get that bike rack attached to his car."

Tilting his head to the side, Abe leaned back. Of all the potential reactions he could have anticipated, a completely unrelated story was not one of them. And yet, it did make a kind of logical sort of sense. At least where Haruna Motoki was concerned. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Haruna held up the index finger of his pitching hand, arms still crossed. "Normally we don't use it."

So, Haruna had prepared ahead of time, knowing he was going to commander Abe's bike. And he'd invested a fair amount of effort in the task. That was nice of him. "Two hours?" Abe asked, raising an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

Involuntarily, Abe began to stand, feeling a sudden urge to look out towards the parking lot, or maybe to walk over there and check out the apparatus, just to confirm that two hours indicated a ridiculous level of ineptness. Haruna's dad was some kind of hotshot corporate lawyer, and Haruna… was Haruna. Of course it would take them forever to do something basic but mechanical.

Of course. Unfortunately, Haruna had apparently anticipated this response, since he suddenly grinned and grabbed fistful of Abe's shirttail with his non-pitching right hand, pulling him down while half off-balance. "What the--" Abe began, as he tumbled unceremoniously against Haruna's crooked arm.

Haruna was strong, very strong. With whip speed, Haruna spun around, and for a scary moment Abe felt like he was going to fly face-first down the bleachers. But Haruna had him, and with a decisively solid and confident move, turned with the direction of his fall and used the leverage and momentum to pull Abe into his lap, into a highly undignified hug from behind. "The hell?" Abe sputtered, when he could find his voice once more. "The fucking hell?"

"Now I've got you!"

Abe looked down. Haruna's arms were tight around his waist, and Haruna was already rubbing his face in Abe's back, in that way he had been wont to do, back in Seniors. As he had before their final falling out, before they stopped being friends. Both of them were breathing rapidly, but that shit Haruna was laughing! Laughing! Again! Abe looked back over his shoulder, displeased and growling slightly. "Let go of me, you fuck!"

"Not a chance."

Haruna had tricked him. He'd totally tricked him. Abe struggled some, trying to get out of it, but knowing that he couldn't try too hard, not with Haruna's pitching arm at stake. It wasn't like he owed Haruna Motoki anything, but still, he couldn't go all the way and use an appropriate level of force. He couldn't follow through, because… to hurt Motoki-san… he couldn't.

This was Haruna's terminal advantage. It caught Abe up, every time.

"I hate you," Abe said, in a tight simmer.

"Yeah, I know," Haruna said, not seeming to care one whit.

Slowly, Abe stopped struggling, knowing that it just made him look worse when he failed to escape. What kind of plan was this? Had Mihashi really signed on-- no, yes, he had to have signed on. Abe made a face. "I'm too big for this," he grumbled. "We look absolutely ridiculous. Do you have any idea of how ridiculous we both must look?"

"I have every idea," Haruna retorted, still laughing, still rubbing his face in Abe's back, like a moron.

"I hate you," Abe said again. He wanted his objections, at least, to be fully noted.

"Yeah, you said that." Haruna squeezed Abe even tighter, and it made Abe shiver and take a deep breath. "But... it's too much fun to tease you, Takaya." Haruna's voice became quiet.

It wasn't fair. Haruna acting like this, it just wasn't fair. He was so selfish, and self-centered, and gave no consideration to what Abe wanted, and never had. Abe closed his eyes. Being held like this, it made him think about Mihashi. Well, not a shock, since almost everything made him think about Mihashi. But being held like this, it reminded Abe of how much he missed his friend. His pitcher. His... his...

"I can't promise anything anymore, Motoki-san." Abe closed his eyes. "I can't. I'm done. I can't."

"Shh." Haruna stopped moving his face against Abe's back, apparently preferring just to rest his cheek there, pressing firmly. "No one is asking you to."

"But..."

"You always made too many promises, to begin with."

What the hell did that even mean? Abe sighed. For a while they just sat there, the warmth of Haruna's larger body enticing him into silence. For early spring, it was a very nice day. The breeze rose and fell, with all the inconsistency of a haggard breath. Eventually Abe opened his eyes once more, looking out at the empty field, over towards Haruna's school, off to where the baseball team was practicing, a little of which he could even see. It was a nice day. A good day.

A lonely day, because there was no Mihashi in it.

"Hey, look at that," Abe said, presently.

"Mm?"

"It's an elf invasion." A cadre of approximately two dozen elementary aged girls were skipping and running onto the field. They all looked like wood nymphs or something, dressed up like the forest.

"Oh. Oh!" Haruna peered around Abe's back, perking up instantly. "It's the Kappas!"

"The... what the fuck?"

But already Haruna was calling out, waving happily, as if he didn't have a guy in his lap. Shameless. Just like he's always been. "Hey! Kappas! Hi!"

There was an adult with the little girls, a female teacher, and she looked up and smiled, waving back. The girls all unilaterally shrieked and a handful of them came running over.

"Kappas?" Abe turned his head, asking quietly. "You know them?"

"Sort of." Haruna was leaning forward a bit, craning to get a better view of the girls climbing up the bleachers, but apparently had no intention of letting Abe go. "They're with the elementary school. Sometimes they bring snacks to practice, and for Valentines they gave the entire baseball team chocolates." Haruna was smiling. "They're big fans."

"They don't look anything like kappas." For one thing, kappas were a lot uglier.

"Shh, don't let them hear you say that!" Haruna was laughing quietly. "I dunno, they're some kind of all-around girl's club, and they do performances and go camping and help out with various clubs. You know, at the level that kids that age can help."

"Pitcher-san! Pitcher-san!" The girls were calling out, all apparently thrilled to see their high school's ace. Abe felt acutely embarrassed, not knowing how he ended up surrounded by six or seven small children, all giving Haruna adoring looks (and him, suspicious ones).

"Hello," Haruna said gravely.

"Who's that?"

One of the little girls was pointing at Abe, accusingly.

"This is my old friend, Takaya. He's a famous baseball player."

"Famous?" Abe hissed.

But already the looks of suspicion were fading. "Hello, Takaya-san!" they all called out, politely, bowing.

"Uh... hi." Abe rubbed at the back of his neck, returning the greeting. Well, it would be rude not to, right?

"So what are you guys up to?" Haruna asked.

"We're not guys!" "Practicing!" "Why is a boy in your lap?" "Did you like the chocolates?"

It was a barrage. "Practicing for what?" Haruna asked, patiently, but with a low giggle. The shit. What a total shit. Haruna seriously couldn't _not_ be amused by things he found cute and adorable, could he?

"For the spring play!" Obviously, they felt this was self-explanatory, since the answer came with a heavy dose of exasperation.

"The famous spring play?" Abe asked, finally, after a pause. This was probably the kind of answer they were angling for.

"Yes!" They all shouted, very pleased. All suspicion vanished; anyone who thought they were famous had to be alright with them, it seemed.

"Girls!" The teacher was down at the bottom of the bleachers, clapping her hands twice for attention. "Girls!"

Now that the teacher was close, she was giving Abe and Haruna a speculative glance. But Haruna, not caring, simply waved back. "Thanks for all your hard work," he shouted out.

And with that, the teacher smiled, and bowed. It seemed that if you were shameless enough, you could get away with anything. The girls had all tumbled back down the bleachers, and were now running back to the middle of the field to rejoin their comrades. Soon the teacher turned back to her charges, getting them all lined up, and they started doing some kind of dance drills.

"Do you know everyone?" Abe asked, aggrieved, once they were all safely away.

"Almost." Haruna was still leaning to the side, enough so that he could catch Abe's eye. "I don't know your club's manager, though... technically..." he said, with a wheedling, leading tone.

"Do you honestly like her?" Abe asked, narrowing his eyes.

"I could!" Haruna's eyes had become wide, earnest. He probably meant it, too. "She's as cute as _our_ old manager!"

Abe put two and two together. "The one who likes someone else?"

"You!" Haruna grimaced, and it was clear he wanted to attack Abe with another noogie, but this was at war with his desire to hold Abe securely, unable to escape.

The later desire won out.

Abe looked down with a sideways, evil grin, feeling somewhat smug. This kind of small victory was worth savoring, since it was so rare.

Before Abe could come up with something satisfying to say, something to expand upon his small triumph, he was diverted by another person jogging crossways through the field, directly towards them. It was that boy, that friend of Haruna's. The other catcher.

What was his name again?

"Oi! Kyouhei!!" Abe flinched a bit, as Haruna basically bellowed right next to his ear.

Kyouhei. Was that it? The name wasn't consistent with the idea of a name nagging at Abe's brain, the name he could almost but not quite recall, but he had to presume that Haruna knew best since he was shouting with such conviction. Kyouhei it was, then.

It was weird-- back in Seniors, it had seemed to Abe that Haruna had no friends at all, and that he'd had a personality not unlike his own. But now it was clear that the Haruna he'd known back then had been an aberration, was not the "true" Haruna, and that thought made Abe a little sad whenever he dwelled on it for too long. He tried not to dwell on it now.

The catcher, Kyouhei, looked up and waved, but instead of coming directly over he stopped to chat with the Kappas. They surrounded him eagerly, their teacher looking on with what was clearly fading patience.

"Kyouhei's bringing us drinks," Haruna said to Abe, explaining in a more normal tone.

"He's skipping practice too?"

"Nope. He's just on break. I told him we'd be here."

Kyouhei. Kyouhei... ah right. Akimaru Kyouhei. Abe knew he had the full name in his brain somewhere.

Akimaru Kyouhei. Back in Seniors, Abe had not known of his existence. But now, in the present, he knew Akimaru Kyouhei to be Haruna's oldest, dearest friend.

Another thing Abe tried not to dwell on.

After finishing up with the Kappas (or, as an alternative explanation, after having been shooed off at last by the much put-upon teacher), Akimaru Kyouhei climbed the bleachers. He was wearing standard practice gear-- thankfully, no catcher's gear-- and was carrying a bag casually over one shoulder. "Hi there, Takaya. How are you doing?"

As with every previous time Abe had met this person, he found Akimaru Kyouhei to be friendly, polite, and bland.

"Well, thanks," Abe answered, indifferently.

"No hellos for me?" Haruna said, crying his stupid Haruna version of crocodile tears. To Abe's eternal aggravation, Haruna hugged his arms around Abe's body even tighter. "Kyouhei, are we breaking up?"

"If you ever were wondering why you have zero luck with girls, Motoki, this is why," Akimaru Kyouhei said, now standing before them with one hand on his hips. He was looking down at the both of them and shaking his head in disbelief.

"But Kyouhei? Isn't he cute?" Haruna was rubbing his face in Abe's back-- again. Abe felt his own face go red.

It was really too much.

Not seeming at all surprised by Haruna's outlandishly bad behavior, Akimaru Kyouhei bowed to Abe. "Takaya, I apologize on behalf of all of Musashino High." When Akimaru Kyouhei straightened, he fixed Haruna with a judgmental glare. "And Motoki? Let the poor guy go already, you're going to traumatize him with your 'affections.'"

Something that Abe always found difficult to understand about Akimaru Kyouhei was his casual, instinctive familiarity. Haruna's catcher seemed to accept as an article of faith that because Abe had once been Haruna's friend, it meant that he and Abe were acquainted, even close, despite never having exchanged a single word without Haruna on hand to serve as some kind of social lubricant and connecting touch-point.

Without Haruna, there was no doubt that he and Akimaru Kyouhei would be complete strangers-- but with Haruna, they were somehow friends? It was difficult for Abe to wrap his mind around the logistics of this situation, and worse, he had no idea how he was supposed to address this person, since he really didn't want to call him 'Kyouhei' but felt that calling him 'Akimaru' or even 'Kyouhei-san' would be rude.

At Akimaru Kyouhei's prompting, Haruna finally loosened his grip on Abe. With great dignity, Abe stood, dusting himself off, and then sat down right next to Haruna.

"Takaya, true or false: does Motoki give off weirdness cooties that would cause most normal girls to run far, far away from him?" Akimaru Kyouhei unzipped his bag, and started pulling out the rumored beverages, holding out a bottle of milk tea and a bottle of jasmine tea. "Also, take your pick."

With a little smirk, Abe took the jasmine, because he knew it was Haruna's favorite. "True," Abe answered, even though to be honest it had always perplexed him why Haruna wasn't more successful with women. He wasn't at all bad looking. Plus, he was a pitcher. Surely that had to count for something.

As Abe started to twist off the cap of his drink, Haruna grabbed it from him and took a swig, giving Abe the most sour, betrayed look.

"I am so not bad with women. You two are both nuts."

Abe and Akimaru Kyouhei sighed, simultaneously, and then they both started after realizing they were having the same reaction.

But Akimaru Kyouhei appeared to shake off his startlement quickly, replacing it with a smooth, slow smile. Handing over the milk tea to Abe, who took it without a word, Akimaru Kyouhei leaned in towards Haruna, who scooted back a little. Was Haruna looking a bit disturbed? Intimidated? Surely not. "If you stopped treating girls like they were made of glass, and treated them more like you do Takaya, I think you'd have a lot more luck."

It occurred to Abe that maybe Akimaru Kyouhei wasn't so bland after all.

Creepy, maybe, but not bland.

"Takaya, is that true?" Haruna looked at Abe, with wide eyes.

Abe looked down for a moment at the milk tea he was holding.

How, by the sake of all that was sacred in baseball, had they come to this? What the hell was Mihashi thinking, sending Abe off to be subjected to this?

"It wouldn't hurt," he managed, with a bit of a mumble.

Really, what else could he say?

"So, I should tease girls?" Haruna also looked down, digesting his catcher's advice. He almost seemed like Mihashi for a moment, the way he was seriously thinking it over, ticking his thoughts off with one hand. "Steal their bikes? Make them play catch-ball with me?"

"That's right," Akimaru Kyouhei said, taking a seat on the other side of Abe, effectively flanking him. From his magical bag of drinks, Akimaru Kyouhei pulled out a canned coffee. "If you prefer coffee, Takaya, you can have this," he said, holding it out in front of Abe.

"... milk tea is fine." To prove it, Abe opened his bottle, and took a small sip. He actually hated milk tea, but he hated coffee worse, and so it was a matter of choosing the lesser of two evils.

And... what was Abe doing here, anyway? What was the point? Stolen away so that Haruna could pester him about girls and molest him, just like old times?

Abe missed Mihashi. He wanted to be with Mihashi. Nothing could help with that feeling, nothing.

Not when Abe had a war to win.

Giving Abe a long, considered look, Haruna placed an arm around Abe's shoulders, and then leaned his head down against him. Akimaru Kyouhei looked ahead, saying nothing as he popped open his can of coffee.

Eventually, Abe spoke. "Shinooka... Shinooka likes to rollerblade," he said, quietly.

Haruna just squeezed Abe's shoulders a bit more.

They sat in silence like that, for a while, watching the famous Kappas at work, until it was time for Haruna's catcher to return to practice.


End file.
